The Heights
by Star18
Summary: Cathy and Heathcliff's story is written in a modernized, present-day version of the passionate, timeless novel. Outline of original story remains the same, with a bit of my own flair to details. Rated M just to be on the safe side. R/R...
1. Chapter 1: Who Are You?

_Disclaimer's Note: No, I don't own the story Wuthering Heights or any of the characters in it. This is only my modern day rendition of Emily's timeless classic. Hope I've done them justice._

The Heights

Chapter One: Who Are You?

The rain was coming down harder and more furiously than usual that night. Cat Ernshawl sat on her bed and stared at the drops that slapped against her window, a far away, longing expression on her face. She loved the rain. It was so wild and unpredictable, covering every inch of where it fell. No one could tame the rain; like the wind, it had no master. And it lived in the most wild and unpredictable of places; the sky was a frontier that she longed for more than anything to explore. She longed to be a bird that could soar high above the world into the vast unknown of blue and white; a falcon with wings wide and strong, an eagle with beauty and pride, a hawk with wit and will.

The snore from the next room jolted her out of her reverie sharply and she made a face at the wall.

If she could be a bird, then she'd be able to be free of this prison that was her home.

Though her home was her security, and she was willing to admit that she loved it dearly, Cat longed to leave the confines of the endless miles of wilderness that surrounded her modest home. Trees, fields and plains stretched on for what seemed like forever. The nearest town was small enough in itself. Out here the Ernshawls could almost be completely alone, isolated from all outside civilization; it was like a whole other world out here. Cat loved the nature, she loved the animals that dwelled in it; they weren't the problem.

It was her family that made her home so incredibly boring.

Though Cat was the spitting image of her mother, from her mane of thick brown hair to her hazel eyes, they were nothing alike in character or spirit. Cat was bold, daring and adventurous. Tina Ernshawl was paranoid and fearful of everything. She had been ever since she'd had her last miscarriage of Cat's little sister six years ago when Cat was ten. Her mother had wanted so many children when she'd married Cat's dad, and eighteen years later, they still only had two; Cat who was now seventeen, and her brother Henry, who was eighteen. Cat didn't understand why her mother just wouldn't give up; the last time had been risky, too risky. Her dad had had to drive her mother the thirty miles to the hospital in the middle of a storm. By the time they had got there the baby had long been dead. When her mother had physically recovered, Cat couldn't help telling her how stupid she'd been to get pregnant again. Her mother had looked at her through red rimmed eyes and replied that when she had her first baby someday, _then_ she would understand.

Cat didn't believe her then, and she still didn't believe her now. She didn't intend on _ever_ having any babies; the result didn't seem worth the pain and suffering that went into it. She loved her mother, but she couldn't understand why she would subject herself to the same pain, the same motions over and over again. It made her frustrated, and even angry sometimes; so much so that she couldn't always bite her tongue and stay silent. Tina said that Cat was rude and outspoken, that nothing and no one would ever tame her. But to Cat she was just being herself; she didn't know any other way to be.

Her older brother Henry was another problem on his own. If Cat was wild and untamable, Henry was one hundred times worse than that. Lazy, sarcastic and impolite, Henry surrounded himself in a world of heavy metal music, black jeans and combat boots. Him and his gang of rowdy, prankster friends were enough to make Cat want to scream. If what her mother said was true and she wanted too much, then Henry wanted too little. He had no dreams, no ambitions, no plans. His apathy was unbelievable. He didn't even know how to take care of himself; if his hair wasn't greasy and unkempt, then his clothes were dirty and smelly. If he wasn't drinking, he was smoking (habits he'd taken up when he was only eleven). With him, it was one thing or the other. He'd been suspended from school more times than Cat could count; the only reason he hadn't been expelled was because there wasn't another school anywhere near where they could dump him.

The only thing Henry actually cared about was their dad, and that was the only thing Cat had in common with her brother.

Will Ernshawl was not wild and rambunctious like his children, but he wasn't timid or fearful like his wife either. He was everything in between; humorous, light hearted, protective, and warm. He loved his family and indulged them in all their ways. When Cathy spoke out or was out too late in the woods, he would swat her on the bottom with a playful firmness and remark on her recklessness, making her apologize to her mother. When Henry got into trouble at school, he apologized profusely to the principal and offered him free service at the auto body shop that was attached to their house, _The Heights. _It was his appealing character and reputation that saved Henry with the administration every time. When Tina was upset about the dead babies, he would come behind her and murmur quietly in her ear, his hands holding her protectively. Usually they would go for a walk together or spend hours in the shop, not coming out while Henry and Cat knew well enough not to disturb them.

Everyone liked Will Ernshawl. There was just something in his soft brown eyes, shaded by gray flecked blonde bangs, something in his crooked smile, the tone of his rumbling voice that pulled in anyone. Some said that he was too kind, too trusting, but Cat wished they would just mind their own business. Her father could do no wrong in her eyes; he was perfect.

He wasn't home right now. Every once in a while, he would go into the town to have a drink at the bar and play pool, then come back home late at night. Cat waited for him each and every time. If he was in the right kind of mood, she would be able to convince him to let her go out and look at the moon under her favorite tree in the wide open field behind the forest by their house. He would stare at her for a long time, then sigh heavily and pinch her cheek,

"Don't let your mom know I let you go now Caty, or there'll be Hell to pay-for both of us!"

And even if he didn't let her go, Cat would wait until she was sure that he was sleeping and sneak out of her window to go where she pleased. Somehow, she felt that he knew she did this anyway.

But she wasn't going anywhere tonight until she was sure that her dad was back home and safe. For all of the courage and boldness she had for herself, Cat worried very much about her dad. He was so much older than her mother; fifty five years old, what's more he had a heart condition due to high blood pressure, something he tried to hide from everyone. Cat couldn't imagine a world without her father in it, and she didn't want to start trying. Urging him to take his medicine was something she joined her mother in doing. If her father died, Cat wouldn't have anyone else left; she had no friends at school. She couldn't stand the preening, vain girls that scowled at her hole-ridden jeans and tangled hair. She didn't fit in with them and she knew it. She didn't seem to fit in anywhere, or with anyone.

As another clap of thunder resounded in the sky, Cat closed her eyes and started murmuring under her breath anxiously,

"Come home daddy….daddy come home…come on…"

This was a curious trick that she'd picked up on some time ago. Cat believed that if she closed in on herself, isolated all her thoughts and willed something hard enough, she was sure to get what she wanted. After it worked for the first five or six times, she was more than convinced that it worked, but saved the effort for only important things.

And sure enough, a few minutes later, she heard the familiar sound of her dad's pick up truck rumbling down the dirt path, saw the headlights like twin pools of light coming forth in the darkness.

Grinning in relief, Cat leapt up from her window seat and flung open her bedroom door, running down the hall and stairs, shouting at the top of her voice,

"Dad's home! Dad's home!"

From inside Henry's bedroom came a groggy, "Shut _up_ Cat!"

But Cat was already downstairs and at the kitchen back door. Anxiously sliding the dead bolt back, she whipped the door open, crying out,

"Dad where have you-"

The words died in her throat and Cat frowned in confusion.

The person standing before her wasn't her father. It was a boy.

He looked to be about her own age, but he was thin and of average height. His face was dirty, streaked with dirt and rain that still dripped down his face. Smooth, raven colored hair was plastered to his face from the rain; hair that glowed like blue in the flicker of lightning. His skin was like burnished gold; tanned and tawny. He had a tall forehead and bushy eyebrows that rested atop piercing green eyes filled with a wolfish sort of calm and caution.

Cat stared at the boy in stunned wonder, speaking her thoughts aloud in a quiet murmur,

"Who are _you_?"


	2. Chapter 2: Heath

**Chapter Two: Heath**

Before he could answer, a dark shadow fell across the both of them, and Will Ernshawl's tall frame, dripping with rain filled the door frame, a smile on his lips,

"Cat, How unsurprising!" he remarked jokingly. Putting his great hands on the boy's shoulders, he gently nudged him inside the kitchen, and shut the door behind him.

In the kitchen light, Cat saw that the boy was wearing her father's old, tan jacket he'd had since she could remember, his arms only slightly too little for the sleeves. Will was drenched from head to foot in his plaid shirt and blue jeans. Taking off his baseball cap, he shook out his hair and exhaled deeply. Smiling at her, Cat's father reached out for her hand. When she placed it in his, he turned back to the quiet, raven haired boy and placed his other hand on his shoulder,

"What do you think Cat? I brought home something more than beer breath tonight!"

Cat frowned up at him and shook her head in confusion, "But Dad… I don't understand… who is he?"

Will answered, "Honey, this is Heath. Heath, this is the wild, crazy daughter of mine I told you about-Catherine Rowena Ernshawl- but we all call her Cat."

The two of them stared at each other; Cat in curiosity, the boy in an expression she wasn't able to read. There was something in those eyes of his that she wasn't able to understand. Was it anger? No; nor sadness, or fear. She thought hunger at first, but that wasn't right either. Amusement, wonder, thoughtfulness; all could have been right. How could someone so seemingly dead to all around him, come alive in his eyes alone?

Will looked back and forth at the two of them and laughed, "Well aren't you two going to at least going to shake hands? That's the way we greet each other here in America you know! Go on Heath," he gave him another gentle nudge, "Offer her your hand."

Heath paused for another moment, then slowly raised his arm and extended a tanned, dirty hand out to her. Cat looked at it, then, as if on instinct, raised her own hand out to shake his. As they came closer to one another, Cat raised her eyes to look at the boy again. Heath was still staring at her in that peculiar way she didn't understand- only now the look seemed even more intensified.

Just as their fingertips grazed each other, Cat heard a voice call out,

"Will, what's going on?"

Instantly yanking her hand back, Cat saw her mother and Henry standing in the doorway to the kitchen, still in their pajamas, Tina was staring back and forth at her father and Heath, casting fearful glances at the boy. Henry was keeping his eyes on Heath, scrutiny in every glance he cast at him.

Cat's father went over to Tina, putting his arm around her shoulders reassuringly,

"What do you think of him Tina? It's your own special surprise, just what you wanted!"

"Surprise?" She shook her head confusedly, "Will who is this boy?"

"His name is Heath. I found him at the bar tonight. Well actually, the boy had been lurking around there for some time before then- I would see him picking through the dumpster looking for food. Well tonight, I just couldn't ignore him anymore. I offered to buy him a burger. Then I made up my mind to bring him home with me."

Tina nodded slowly, "Alright… you fed him at the bar… so why is he _here_? I mean Will- I understand why you did it but, did you have to bring him to our _house_?" Her voice lowered imploringly.

"Yeah Dad," Henry said skeptically, "What the hell _is_ it anyway?" He gestured toward Heath.

The slightest of frowns creased Will's brow and he answered, "It's not _it _Henry, it's _he_. And I told you, his name is Heath. I don't know his last name, he wouldn't tell me- and anyway it doesn't matter anymore since he'll be with us now."

_"What?!"_

_"What?!"_

Tina and Henry exclaimed at once, their faces paralyzed with shock. Cat only stared at Heath who was also studying her with the same intensity.

"Will," Tina said, her voice shaking, "What are you talking about, 'be with us'? You- you don't actually mean, _live _here with us _forever_ do- do you?"

"Dad, you actually expect us to just welcome this… trash picker into our house? Near all our valuables?"

Will looked at them in hurt surprise, "Henry, the boy's no thief! He wouldn't steal from us-"

"Will how do you know that?!" His wife broke in, "I mean just look at him! He's dirty, he's- he's covered in rags and he hasn't said one word since you brought him in here, how could you-"

"Tina honey, don't talk about him like he isn't here. Now you just have to trust me - I mean I was thinking of you most of all when I brought him home with me. I was so sure you'd be happy to have him- it'd be another child- just like we wanted."

Cat's mother's face seemed to crack, "You mean… that's what you thought… You thought he could replace… Oh _Will_-" Her voice lowered to a miserable groan, "That isn't the same _thing_! Will, how could you think that he could ever mean to me what my own flesh and blood could?! You expect me to just be able to treat a stranger like one of my children!"

She buried her face in her hands and Cat's dad instantly went over to her, calling back to Cat and Henry,

"Cat, Henry, I want you to take Heath upstairs. He can share one of your rooms tonight. Henry, give him one of your shirts he can wear to bed, alright? Go on now, all of you."

Cat gave Heath a nudge in the side and nodded toward the hallway. He gave no reply, but went out of the kitchen nonetheless, walking toward the stairway while looking around him in curiosity.

From behind her, she heard Henry mumbling none too quietly under his breath,

"What the hell did Dad bring in this house?"

Whipping her head around she hissed softly and gestured to Heath, "Shut up, do you want him to hear you?"

Henry shrugged boldly, "Let him!"

"Look I know it's real hard for you, but try and act like you have some manners."

"Manners?! Cat, what the hell for? Why bother with manners for some trash picker who has holes in his shoes?" He sighed and shook his head, "Dad must have been drunk or something. I've _told _him to let me come with him to the bar! This would have never happened if I'd been there!"

"Give me a break," Cat said sardonically, "If _you'd_ been there he would have brought home some street walker instead!"

"Oh shut up" he retorted, glaring at Heath, who stood at the top of the stairs waiting for them. He 

brushed past him and into his room without a word, Cat followed him and Heath followed her. Grimacing in disgust, she kicked and nudged aside the empty pizza boxes, beer cans and dirty boxers out of her way.

"God Henry," she mumbled, "Do you even _have_ anything clean he can wear?"

Henry was rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. He smirked tightly, "Oh I think they'll be clean enough for our new buddy here, don't you think so Harold? I seem to remember a saying somewhere along the lines of beggars can't be-" He broke off and tossed a faded, white t-shirt in Heath's direction, who caught it instantly, "Well, I think you get my meaning, right?""

Heath stared at him, not saying anything. Cat didn't see anything in those green eyes of his anymore.

Wanting to break the uncomfortable silence, she spoke up, "The bathroom's right across the hall. There are clean towels in the closet if you wanted to shower or something. And I'm sure that Henry here will have cleared a spot for you to sleep in by the time you get done- won't you Henry?"

Henry's eyes flashed at her, then the flame subsided as a cool smile curled his lips, "Oh no doubt man. I've got the perfect place all picked out- you can sleep with Cat in her room tonight. She does get so lonely- don't you… _Cathy_? Tell Harold here how afraid you are of the dark. Now that he's here, you won't have to sleep with that pesky little night light!"

Cat stared at him, her eyes shooting daggers at Henry's victorious grin. Then she looked back at Heath, who was looking at her in his unreadable expression. She saw the way his hair and clothes were still dripping from the water and noticed that he was slightly shivering. Then she tried to imagine what kind of sleep he would get in Henry's room.

She sighed, "Come on…Heath. My room's right next door to the right."

Henry came over to Heath and placed his arm around his shoulders, steering him to the door, "Oh and don't worry about extra clothes man- I just went through my closet last week and picked out the ones I want to give to Goodwill- I think some of them'll be perfect for you!" Patting him on the shoulder firmly, he waved him out the door and turned back to Cat, bursting into snickering laughter at the expression on her face,

"Oh come on Cat- don't' be mad. I mean c'mon: you've gotta love this!"

"No, I hate you, you lazy, obnoxious jerk." She spat back, "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Have some fun," Henry said simply, "Look at the guy: there's so much to choose from! You and I could make him hate us so much that he runs away from here himself: Mom wouldn't have to do a thing to convince Dad to throw him out."

"Dad doesn't want that and you know it, and besides I'm not like you Henry."

He snorted as he rolled a cigarette, "Yeah, thank God for that!"

"I mean it now, I don't want him in my room forever. You know how I feel about my room Henry: it's one of the only places I have completely to myself."

Henry lit the cigarette and puffed on it twice, then took it out and shrugged again, "You don't want him in there, then help me get him out of here- for good."

"But Dad said that he was here for good."

"Oh he didn't mean it and you know it. Dad's just in one of his "Save the World" phases. He'll get over it eventually. And anyway, he doesn't need to know it was us that drove the little sewer rat out, does he?"

Cat was silent for a while, staring at her brother as she chewed on her bottom lip. Finally she shook her head, "I know you Henry. You never do anything that doesn't benefit you. I'm not being your little puppet in this. If I don't like Heath later on, then maybe I'll shake things up… Until then, I think he's starting to grow on me already. And I would hate to have to share with Dad that you're just not too keen on having him stay- not to mention the little offer you just made me."

Henry shook his head at her and leaned back against his bed, "Get out. Get the hell out of here." A cloud of smoke blew in her direction, but she didn't cough.

Cat smiled, pleased. Just before she went out the door, she called back, "And you should put out that cigarette before Mom smells the smoke!"

Walking back into her room, Cat paused in the door when she saw Heath standing in the middle of her room. The shirt Henry had given him was at his feet, rolled up in a ball. He stared at her, motionless.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Cat smiled nervously and went over to pick up the shirt, "Here- I don't blame you for not wanting to wear that thing. You never know where anything of Henry's has been!" Pitching it out the door, she went over to her dresser and began rummaging through a drawer, "I think I have one of my dad's old shirts in here somewhere. I sleep in them sometimes- here it is."

Reaching it out to him, Cat shook it after a moment went by, "Go on- take it."

Heath tentatively reached out and took the shirt, as if he was afraid that she would snatch it back.

Cat went over to her closet and snatched a towel and washcloth from a top shelf. Handing these to Heath, she beckoned for him to follow her out into the hallway. Going in the bathroom, she switched on the light and pushed back the shower curtain, then turned back to him,

"Alright; there's body wash under the sink, and shampoo in the shower door. When you get done, you can put your clothes and the towels in the hamper right out side the bathroom." Cat briefly smelled the air and took in his filthy clothes and skin, adding, "And take as long as you need, okay?"

Heath nodded quickly, still holding onto the towels and shirt.

Realizing he was probably waiting for her to leave, Cat walked back out into the hallway, pulling the door partly closed, then ducking her head back in,

"I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Shutting the door, she went back into her room. Taking a pillow and spare sheet off her bed, Cat arranged them on the floor as best she could, thinking wryly,

_This is the best I can do buddy- don't take it personal, but I can't have you getting any ideas!_

From the across the hall, she heard the water in the shower turn on and she sighed, thinking, _Finally! I wonder what's wrong with that kid? He hasn't said a single word since he got here! Maybe I can make him say something…_

Going back out into the hall, Cat knocked on the bathroom door, calling out "Everything alright in there?"

From inside the bathroom came a muffled, unintelligible sound that sounded like a "Yeah," or "Fine". Shrugging Cat smiled, _Close enough!_

She started to go back into her room, but paused when she heard raised voices coming from downstairs. Her curiosity peaked, she went over toward the back stairs leading to the kitchen and quietly crept down the first five six, listening to the frustrated, cross voices of her parents,

"He _can't_ stay here," she heard her mother saying emphatically, "Do you hear me Will? I don't care where you got him, or where he comes from, but take him away from this house first thing tomorrow morning!"

"Tina you're just shocked and upset," her dad said rationally, "Now just give this a few days, a few weeks and you'll get used to Heath, I promise-"

"I don't want to get used to him, I want to get him out of here!" She cried, "Will this is so unfair of you to do this; to me, to the children. You just get an idea in your head and think it's heaven-sent and forget whatever anyone else may think or feel about-"

"I was thinking of you when I brought him home Tina! From the moment I started talking to him, all I could think of was how much you would love him; the boy's so smart and quick. He's not like most kids his age, who always need attention and petty stuff. He' s a survivor; brave and strong. He knows a little bit about cars so he can help me with the shop- he's the best pool player I've ever seen-"

"So this is all about what you want, Will? What _you _think a son should be like?"

"Tina you know that's not what I-"

"In case you went and forgot Will: we already have two children. We lost three others, but we've still got two; a girl _and_ a boy. You want to have a son who can do all that stuff with you, then you can do it with Henry."

Will spoke dismissively, "Henry's different Tina- the boy always has been. Won't listen or do a thing I say."

"That's just because you won't give him a chance Will. You automatically expect him to fail-"

"He _does_ fail! At everything but gettin' in trouble. The only thing I can ever do for him is get him from being expelled. He's got no other use for me than that."

"But he wants to!" Her mother said desperately, "He wants to please you so bad, but you make it so hard Will. And then you favor Cathy above him-"

Will groaned in frustration, "Oh not this again-"

"You know you do Will! She's your favorite child and you know it! You do things with Cat that you don't even try to do with Henry. It hurts him so bad that getting into trouble becomes his only way of getting your attention- it's the only way he can see you at all. And now you bring in this stranger boy to us in the middle of the night? What's Henry supposed to think? Did you even look at his face when you said you wanted him to live here? Did you even care?!"

"The trouble is that you always coddled the boy Christina," Will said matter of factly, "You made him think that he was sad, misunderstood and- and troubled when he was just plain lazy and a brat." He snorted, "While I was giving Cat licks with the belt, you were showering him with kisses! Cat always took it like a man- Henry whined and screamed every time I raised my hand to him!"

"So you're just giving up on him, you want to have a fresh start with this homeless boy and just forget all about Henry? Is that it Will?"

"I'm hoping that Heath'll rub off on Henry and stop him from being so reckless before he ends up dead. If the boy's smart- if he really wants to please me- then he'll take a hint and fall in line."

"This will never work Will. Do you hear me? I just know this whole thing will end in trouble."

"What's the worse that could happen Tina? Nothing we can't get through."

"Really? What about Cat? What if she doesn't want him here? And Will suppose… suppose he," Her voice 

dropped lower, "_Hurts_ her? What if they come to… _like _each other?"

There was a long silence, then Cat heard her father's voice again, this time different than before,

"That'll never happen. I won't let it happen. I already explained to Heath that Henry and Cat were his brothers and sisters. I know the boy Tina. He wouldn't ever hurt Cat- she's a tough girl. She knows how to look out for herself. And plus, Heath isn't her type- too quiet and withdrawn."

"You talk like you actually know the boy Will: you just met him tonight. You don't know anything about him- if he has any mental problems, what his folks were like, if he's ever been in trouble with the law-"

"Why are you thinking so hard about things like this, huh Tina?"

"Because you don't Will- you never do!" She shouted shrilly. "You don't think, and I'm always the one who has pay for it, never you- _never_ you!"

Will was silent, then said quietly, "Think what you like about me Tina. Think whatever the hell you want- but Heath is staying here. I'm not letting him go back out in that world. There's nothing left out there for the boy: we're all he has. I- I've tried to be a good husband to you, and a good father to them kids. Maybe I failed you, and I'm sorry about that. I try to make it right every morning I wake up. I try to make myself up to you. I just thought that bringing you home another boy could do that for you- I guess I was wrong about that too. But I made a promise to that boy- that he would always have a home with me- and I'm standin' by it, with or without you. Even if he'll never be a son to you, he's one to me now… and forever."

The door to the kitchen door slammed, and Cat heard her mother begin to cry. Shaking her head, she turned to creep back up the stairs, then stopped short.

Heath was standing at the top of the stairs.

Clad only in fraying boxer shorts and Will's shirt, he had pulled back his wet hair into a loose braid that trailed down to the nape of his neck. He leaned against the banister railing, arms folded.

From the look on his face, Cat knew he had heard everything.

Silently stepping back up the stairs, Cat slowly approached him, feeling embarrassed for her parents. Fumbling for the right words, she could only say,

"You're even better than I am at eavesdropping."

He didn't answer her. Still feeling the need to explain something to him, Cat continued awkwardly, "My mom… she's really emotional… she's nothing like my dad at all… I still don't know how they got married."

Heath continued to lean on the banister, looking down at the landing steadily. She noticed that his cheeks and jaw line were extremely defined; like they were sharply chiseled by a sculptor.

"And my brother… he's a jerk. Don't ever pay any attention to anything that comes out of his mouth. Henry's always been a loser- he'll never be anything else. Even my dad thinks so. My mom's the only one who still believes he'll make anything of himself. A mom's love is blind you know…"

Feeling frustrated at his silence, Cat said testily, "It's kind of rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you- especially when their dad let you stay in their house without even knowing you."

Turning around, she started walking back to her room, _What a freak, _She thought to herself, _Dad had better known what he was thinking when he-_

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a low, mellow voice say calmly, "He was right about you."

Whirling around, Cat frowned, "What did you say?" she asked in surprise.

His voice reminded her of the wind; as soft and fleeting as a calm breeze, but low and grating as a bitter chill, "He told me all about you. He said that you talked too much most of the time…" Looking up at her, she saw that his lips were curled into an amused grin, "And you do." She didn't like his smile. It was mocking and sly, as if he were in on some cruel joke she had no idea about.

Cat felt heat flood her face and she answered back icily, "Well if it seems like I talk too much, then maybe it's because some people talk too little!"

Turning back on her heel, she marched into her room and slammed the door behind her pointedly. Let him sleep in the hallway if he was going to insult her. What did she care? Her dad had brought him here, then he was his responsibility.

Ripping back the sheets on her bed, she climbed in, then yanked them back up her shoulders and shut her eyes tightly.

She tossed and turned, back and forth for what seemed like forever. This was unusual for her; usually she could go to sleep within minutes. But not tonight.

She couldn't get Heath's smile out of her head.

It was the first time anyone had ever made her feel foolish for her behavior. No one had ever done that to her before- not even her father. For Cat, it was so weird having it come from this boy that she'd never met before in her life.


	3. Chapter 3: The New Kid In School

_Thanks to Brittany for giving me my first review. It is very much appreciated. This update is longer than the previous ones- I guess my muse was feeling a little more inspired. Just a reminder, I didn't come up with the idea or characters of a brilliant, but sadly underrated novel called Wuthering Heights. A genius named Emily Bronte did. So don't sue me. BTW, this chapter takes place 2 days after the events of last chapter, so yeah. Anyway, without further ado, the continuation of my little story…_

**Chapter Three: The New Kid in School**

Cat sat at the breakfast table, letting her bowl of oatmeal get cold as she stared across the table at Heath. Inside the kitchen, her mother was scrambling eggs. Her father hadn't come down yet, and Henry never did until someone shouted for him.

Heath was bent over his bowl of oatmeal, calmly and steadily spooning it into his mouth. He didn't even seem to acknowledge her presence.

He hadn't come back into her room that first night, or the next. Cat had stayed awake both nights, wondering where he had been, and why he didn't tell her father she'd shut him out of her room.

More importantly, she wondered why she even cared.

Will came into the room, smelling strongly of soap and aftershave. Grinning broadly, he pulled back his chair and sat down beside Heath,

"Well good morning one and all!" he said brightly, "It is a beautiful morning isn't it?: Sniffing the air, he called, "Bring on the eggs Tina- I'm starving!"

There was no reply from the kitchen and Will nodded to Cat, "Hey Caty: better eat up before it gets cold. You all gotta be at school in a little while don't you?"

She nodded, picking up her spoon, "Yeah Dad, I know."

'So Heath," he said, "Things alright for you? How are you sleeping at night?"

Cat held her spoon in mid-air, sucking in a breath.

But to her surprise, she saw Heath's jade eyes raise to hers as he answered steadily, 'It's fine sir, thank you."

"Now don't be worrying," Will was saying reassuringly, "You won't be crashing in Henry's room forever. For a while I've been thinking of doing a little to fix up the house and shop. Well, above the shop is a little room where we keep a lot of our supplies and there's a bathroom in there too. Before, I'd always imagined I'd make it into an office for me. But now that you're here, I thought you might want it as a room of your own: what do you think Heath?"

Cat's mother had entered the room with a large plate of eggs and bacon. As Will finished speaking, she dropped the plate onto the table in front of him, hard. Her face was stone and her voice steely as she called,

"Henry, come down here and eat breakfast before there isn't anything left!"

Will briefly looked at her, then when she left the room again, turned his attention back to Heath, who paused for a moment, then shrugged and nodded, "That sounds fine to me sir. Thank you."

Will chuckled pleasingly, "Alright then. We can start on it as soon as possible. You and me." He laughed again, "Hell, maybe we'll even get Cat here to help out. What do you say Cat?"

Cat smiled tentatively, "Maybe Dad."

He shook his head, "Oh, never mind. I know what that means with you!" He snorted, then mumbled under his breath, "And we know Henry won't be any good!"

"And a very good morning to you too, dear dad!" Henry's voice dripped with disdain and sarcasm as he strode into the room and picked up his glass from the table. Going toward the kitchen, he collided with Tina who was coming out with another plate of eggs,

"Henry hon, don't you want to eat something?" she asked. "I made them they way you-"

"No thanks Ma." he said briskly, "There's just something in the air this morning that's making me want to puke." His eyes shot daggers at Heath, ignoring the daggers his dad's own eyes threw at him, "I think I'll just have some juice to settle my stomach… You want some too Cat? You may have woken up with the… _morning sickness _I seem to be coming down with."

He chuckled softly as he went through the swinging door. Will uttered a foul name under his breath. Heath's face was a blank mask. Cat stood up from the table abruptly, startling everyone,

"I've got to get going, or I'll be late for school," Pausing, she added, "I'll show you the way if you come with me, Heath."

Setting down his spoon, Heath stood up from the table without a word. After taking his dishes to the 

sink, he followed Cat out into the hallway. Will called out after them, "The principal has your schedule ready for you Heath, just let Cat take you to the office!"

When they got to the front door, Cat turned and called out back towards the door, "Henry, c'mon! I'm not letting you make me late again!"

After several moments passed, Henry strode into the hallway, a worn leather jacket swung over his shoulder. "All right sis, let's go: nothing like a day of sleeping through World History and smoking in the parking lot to look forward to!

Right before the three of them went out the door, they heard Will's voice call out one more time, "Have a good day, son!"

Halting in shock, Cat winced. It was obvious who her father was talking to, or rather who he _wasn't_ talking to, and it had actually, for the first time, made her feel genuine pity for her brother. Stealing a glance at Henry from out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he too had stopped in his tracks. A cold, angry expression was on his face and his jaw was clenched tightly as he stared at Heath. For a moment Cat felt sure he was going to hit him, but finally Henry just pushed past him with a rough shove and went out the door, muttering, "Get the hell outta my way, jerk-off."

Heath did nothing to retaliate, but merely stood still looking at the floor.

Cat was silent herself for a moment, then finally sighed heavily, "Come on, let's get going."

The walk to school was quiet and uncomfortable, Henry too far ahead of them to speak, and Heath and Cat walking at about an arm's length distance away from each other.

"So did you go to school back wherever you came from?" The question flew out of her mouth as more a product of her curiosity than her consideration. Her mother would have said it was a rude one.

But if it was to Heath, he didn't show it, merely looking ahead and nodding shortly, "Yeah, a little." he mumbled.

"Well the standards aren't very high at our school, so don't expect to come out as some sort of genius!" Cat said musingly, "They get us in, they get us out. The guys become mechanics, farmers or bums, and the girls become wives, mothers and fat!" She snorted, shaking her head, "God, I hate this place! No one ever wants to _be_ anything, _go_ anywhere!"

He didn't reply, but she continued to talk anyway, speaking her thoughts aloud,

"It's like the people out here, _want_ to be this way, like they actually don't care that we're separated from the rest of the world! I've gotta get outta here if it's the last thing I do! Go somewhere daring, exotic… and big! Somewhere where everyone will know me, and I can be famous…"

Cat realized that she may as well have been talking to herself again and broke off, remaining silent.

When they finally reached the school, Henry sauntered over to his gang of friends who were lounging against the trees in front, smoking and joking around. From behind him, they eyed Heath curiously and Cat felt the need to rush him inside as Henry began talking to them, a lazy, tight grin on his face.

"Here, this way," she said to Heath, gesturing up the stone steps. Once inside, she led him through the bustling crowd of students walking to and fro through the hall. Reaching the office, Cat cleared her throat, stopping in front of the head secretary's desk, "Excuse me? Ms. Lily?"

The secretary looked up from her computer, and smiled, "Ah, hello Catherine! What brings you here?"

Cat clenched her jaw, irritated at having her whole name said, "I'm here to get his," she gestured to Heath behind her, "schedule. My dad said you guys would have it ready."

Ms. Lily glanced at Heath curiously and Cat could tell she didn't understand, "I'm sorry- I'm afraid I don't quite… Who is this exactly Catherine?"

"His name is Heath, and he's-"Cat broke off abruptly, feeling at a loss for words. What exactly _was_ Heath to her family now? Though her dad had said he was going to be like her brother, he hadn't said anything about legally adopting him yet. "He's going to be living with us now." she finished lamely.

Ms. Lily had a faint frown on her face as she eyed Heath closely, but before she could answer, Cat heard the voice of the school principal, Mr. Lane rumble from behind her,

"Ah Cat! Will said you'd be coming. How are you doing?"

Cat managed a small smile for the balding man, "Fine I guess."

He extended his hand awkwardly to Heath, "And you must be the boy Will told me about. What's your name again young man?"

"Heath." he replied.

Lane nodded slowly, "Heath-?"

Cat spoke up for him, "His name's just going to be Heath Ernshawl now Mr. Lane…It's what my dad wants." she added quickly.

"Yes… right. Well, I've got your schedule all made out Heath," he said, "Come back in my office and we'll get it for you."

Cat followed them, and looked around the room musingly, thinking of all the time her dad had had to spend in there on account of Henry.

Mr. Lane rifled through a manila envelope, then whipped out a paper and handed it to Heath, "There you are Heath. Your uh- well Will asked that you start out as a junior with Cat, and I've decided to allow it. We'll put you in the regular classes and if your grades turn out alright, we'll keep you there. We've got you down for all the core classes, plus electives of art, and music. That sound alright with you?"

Heath nodded in reply and Mr. Lane put a hand on his shoulder, steering him to the door, "Give me a minute to talk to Cat alone will you? It'll just be for a second."

Closing the door, he turned back to her, a more serious expression on his face. "You have anything you want to say to me Cat?"

Cat stared at him confusedly, then shook her head, "Uh… no. No, I don't think so."

"For starters what the sam hill's really going on here? You dad told me he brought Heath home from a bar but he was a little vague on the details. Can you fill me in on why he did it, where the boy comes from, what we have to expect?"

Cat folded her arms across her chest defensively. "I don't know anymore than you do Mr. Lane. Heath didn't tell my dad or me where he came from- and I'm not sure I'd tell you even if he did seeing as how it's got nothing to do with school."

"Now hold on there Cat," he said, "You just gotta learn how to keep that sass in your mouth. I didn't mean to be nosy, all I'm concerned about is knowing what I'm really dealing with here, and frankly I don't think you can blame me- can you? I'm not looking to go through Henry Ernshawl the sequel here. One of em' in my school's enough. You get what I'm saying?"

Cat did, "I guess you have a point… but even though it's only been two days I don't think Heath's anything like Henry. He's quiet--real quiet. And God knows he can't get any worse than Henry: as if anyone ever could!"

Mr. Lane nodded gravely, "Don't I know it! I'm willing to give the boy a chance here Cat. You dad's a good man, and I don't think he'd take home any old kid off the street. He told me there was something special about Heath. What do you think?"

Cat paused for a long moment, then shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. It's hard for me to tell. Sometimes he makes it so easy for me to even forget that he's there- until you look up and, there he is. If that's what you call special, then whatever."

From out in the hallway, the bell rang and Mr. Lane went to open his office door again, "Well Heath, I'll let Cat show you to your classes. I think you got a few of em with her anyway. So long Cat. Good luck Heath."

Cat read off the list of Heath's classes faintly to herself as they walked through the halls,

"Alright… Gardner is right here… Jones is there… the gym is down that hallway for your P.E. class… the art studio is just around the corner- just so you know, Langella is a little weird… we have history with Yang together, and that's here… Hart is right across the hall… and your locker's right over here."

Leaning against the wall, Cat gestured to the lock, "Have you ever done one of these things before?"

Heath nodded and taking the combination card she held out, turned the dial until the locker opened. As the bell rang again, Cat said,

"Alright well look, I've got to get to class. You think you can be a big boy and figure everything else out by yourself?"

When he nodded, she replied, "Fine then. Seeya later."

She turned and slung her backpack over her shoulder more securely and started to walk down the hall toward her class.

"Hey!" she heard him call out from behind her and she turned around expectantly, "Thank you."

Surprised, she nodded slowly, "Yeah sure. Thanks for not telling my dad that I kicked you out of my room. If you need anything around here- let me know. That'll make us even I guess… I'll see you around."

Cat began walking away again, but felt a nagging desire to look back. She ignored it for the first three steps, then couldn't resist and cast a quick glance behind her shoulder.

Heath was leaning with his shoulder against the locker, his head tilted at an angle as he watched her walk away. That look she couldn't make out was on his face.

Snapping her head back around, Cat began walking faster.

_What is it with this guy? _She thought to herself, _Why do I feel so strange when I'm around him?_

* * *

Cat entered the cafeteria boredly, her gaze sweeping across the room of teenagers in the lines and at the tables.

From a corner she cold already see Henry and his gang of friends, sitting on top of the table tops. They all looked alike; holey jeans, leather jackets, and stiff Mohawks or buzz cuts. As she caught her brother's eye, Cat narrowed her eyes at the impolite gesture he made at her with his finger, and returned it with one of her own. Smiling sardonically, he looked over at the opposite side of the room and nodded his head pointedly. Following his gaze, Cat saw Heath sitting alone at a table in a lonely corner, a tray of food sat beside him, but was obviously untouched. He had a notebook out in front of him, and was scribbling in it steadily, his attention fully engrossed. A few wisps of hair had escaped from his ponytail and danced in his face, though he tossed his head back periodically.

Cat saw the teasing expression on her brother's face and understood.

He was wondering if she was going to sit with Heath in front of everyone.

It wasn't so much that Cat was overly popular and well liked that made her hesitate. It was just that in the small populated school, nearly everyone knew everyone and their families. There wasn't a single person who didn't know who the Ernshawl family was. Between the popularity of her dad and the notorious reputation of her brother, their family was well known. Heath was already getting long stares and whispers from more than one group of students, he would get even more if Cat- who was known for never sitting with anyone at lunch- joined him like they were well acquainted.

Hesitating a moment longer, Cat suddenly squared her jaw and held her head up high. Taking long, purposeful strides, she began making her way toward the corner where Heath sat, trying to ignore all else around her.

After a walk that seemed like forever, Cat approached the chair directly across from Heath, as her shadow fell across the table, he looked up and saw her.

He closed the notebook he was scribbling in and stared at her, as if he was waiting for her to speak.

Feeling awkward, Cat managed a feeble, "H-Hi." Putting her backpack down on the chair beside hers, she pulled it out and sank down into her seat.

When he saw she was going to sit with him, Heath murmured a quiet, "Hi." then went on with what he was doing in the notebook, this time keeping it closer to him so that she couldn't make out what he was doing.

Cat tried to limit her gaze to the table and saw the untouched tray. She chuckled lightly, "You haven't even started eating yet!"

"I'm not hungry." he answered without looking up.

"I don't blame you- the food's enough to make anyone lose their appetite. I think I heard it gave some girl here food poisoning about fifteen years ago."

He didn't answer to this, and Cat found herself trying to wrack her brain for what to say next, "How do you like your classes so far?"

"They're fine."

"You think you'll be able to keep with the work?"

He nodded, "Mm--hmm."

Cat couldn't resist any longer and allowed her gaze to raise up and dart around quickly. Already a good number of students were staring over at them; the popular, feminine girls, the jock guys, and unsurprisingly, Henry's gang of bums. Henry was shaking his head at her as some of his friends talked to him, the grin on his face even more smug. Cat scowled at him and looked away, trying to ignore the stares and whispers that seemed to scream out at her, _"Who's that guy Cat's sitting with?"_

"So what are you working on?" she asked, trying her hardest to sound normal, "Is it something you want to--"

"You don't have to sit here if I embarrass you." He said calmly. "I know all your friends are probably wondering why you are. Go and sit with them, I don't mind."

Surprised, Cat wondered if she was that obvious and felt the flush come to her face. The fact that he had known the truth embarrassed her; as did the one he didn't know,

"I--I don't have any friends." she said quietly. "If I wasn't sitting with you, I'd be sitting by myself. So it doesn't make that much of a difference to me."

He raised his head to look at her and she stared back at him boldly, waiting for him to make a smart reply, but wishing with all her might that he wouldn't.

"I guess you'd better get comfortable then." he answered, and Cat searched his face for mockery, but saw none. The small trace of a smile on his lips was genuine. Something about it was faintly appealing and Cat 

couldn't stop her own mouth from curling up.

Suddenly, she felt a warm, damp hand clamp down on her shoulder and hot breath that smelled of alcohol in her ear,

"How's it going, sis?"

Looking up with a scowl, Cat pushed Henry's hand off of her roughly, glaring at him and his posse of friends as they began surrounding the table, "What do you want, scum bag?"

"I was just sitting over there talking with the guys, then what do I see but my precious little sister warming up to our new brother," he said the last words with dry sarcasm, "So I figure, hey: why not make it a family reunion? Plus the guys are just dying to finally meet the newest addition to our family. I've been tellin' them all about him! What do you say, Heath?" He nudged Heath in the shoulder with his fist roughly; too roughly. Heath only reopened his notebook and took back up his pencil, keeping his head down.

"Don't he talk, Ernshawl?" one of the boys asked mockingly.

"Nah, I told you he was a mute!" Henry answered, "Swear to God the only thing he's done since he got here's sit in corners and doodle in that notebook!" He reached out and snatched the notebook out from under Heath's pencil, holding it up in the air above his head. Heath glared up at him stonily, but made no attempt to get it back.

Irritated, Cat lashed her hand out and snatched the notebook back from him and tossed it back on the table, "Do you _have_ to still act like we're still in the fifth grade?!"

"I'll take that as a compliment, little sister," Henry sneered, ruffling her hair playfully, to which she shoved at him again,

"Take it however you want, just get out of here and leave us alone!"

"Still got that sharp tongue, huh Cat?" Greg Beals, one of Henry's best friends remarked slyly, "Maybe I can help you put it to good use!" He flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth suggestively, then laughed and slapped hands with Neil Rhodes.

But Henry didn't seem to think it was funny. Frowning, he pushed Greg into Neil brusquely, "Hey, you just shut the hell up you jackass, and watch what the hell you say!"

Still laughing, Greg said, "Aw c'mon man, I was just jokin' around-"

"Yeah, well I'm not laughing Jerry Lewis, so the joke's over! Let's go, I need a smoke so bad it hurts."

The bell rang and the students quickly began getting up from the tables and filing back into the hallway. Cat stared pointedly at her brother, who suddenly looked very awkward and uncomfortable. Masking his face with a leering grin, he did a lazy salute with his hand and sauntered off with his group of friends, leaving Cat and Heath alone again.

Sighing in irritation, Cat began gathering her things, muttering, "Jerk!" under her breath.

She stood up and gestured to Heath, "C'mon. We've got history next, and Yang acts like the world is over if anyone's ever late."

As they walked side by side together in the hallway, Cat tried to ignore the stares and whispers by talking to Heath casually, "It's like I told you before: don't pay any attention to anything that comes out of Henry's mouth. He's an idiot. Everyone here knows it--even he knows it. Learn to give some of your own back, and he'll back off. Trust me, I've been doing it my whole life."

"I'm not afraid of him." Heath said in his calm, steady voice.

Cat shrugged, "I didn't say you were. I just thought you should know that he thrives off of people that let him bully them around. You could make things easier for yourself if you just let him have it."

"I know how to handle people like your brother." He said shortly and Cat glanced at him in surprise. His face had gone hard and his eyes were like green granite.

Wanting to ease the tension, she smiled musingly and shrugged again,

"If you wanna know the truth--it's me you _really_ need to be worrying about!"

Heath's expression lightened and his lips slightly curled up, "Is that right?" he asked.

Cat nodded, "Oh yeah, I'm nothing but trouble: haven't you figured that out yet? You'll be hearing it from everyone, that's for sure. And I've got a few tricks up my sleeve in store for you if you don't believe me!"

Heath gave a small shake of his head, and replied, "I'm not too worried about that either."

"Really?" she asked amusingly, "And why is that? Because I'm a girl?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Heath raised an eyebrow mischievously, "Because I _really_ know how to handle _you_."

Laughing out loud, Cat nodded, "You think so? I think you may be overestimating yourself a little bit there, buddy!"

Heath shrugged nonchalantly, "There's only one way to find out…"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Are you afraid?"

She scoffed, "Not a chance!"

"Meet me tonight then."

"Where?"

"Under the tree."

"What tree?"

"Your tree."

"_My_ tree? How do you know about that?"

He only asked, "Are you coming?"

"What time?"

"Midnight."

"But we're not supposed to sneak out of the house."

"That's never stopped you before."

Cat felt the heat rush to her face. What else did he already know about her? "What are we going to do if I did come?"

"You'll only find out if you do." He said simply. Seeing the expression on her face, he added, "But I think you'll like it--a lot."

Cat's curiosity was fully peaked. She couldn't imagine what it was that Heath was talking about--even more so that he thought it would please her. He didn't even know her enough to discern her interests.

Unless her dad had told him more about her than she supposed…

"So will you come?" he asked.

She paused, then smiled mysteriously, "Maybe." she replied, "I'm not sure if I trust you or not... I'll think about it."

Heath gave a soft chuckle as they approached the classroom, "Yeah…" he murmured, "You do that."


	4. Chapter 4: A Bumpy Night

_A/N: Thanks to Brittany for motivating me to continue with her reviews. Again, this chapter's a little on the long side (I'm finding out I have the tendency to do that. My muse feeds off of feedback.) And just a side note that I guess I should have mentioned earlier, the time period in the story is the mid 1980's. Just for future reference so there's no confusion about anything... Anyway, back to the story.  
_

**Chapter Four: A Bumpy Night**

Later on that day, Cat and Heath rounded the corner and began walking up the winding dirt path that led first to The Heights, then to her home. Henry wasn't with them. He never came home directly after school and Cat's parents had stopped letting it become an issue. He was usually home just in time for dinner.

Through the open garage doors, Cat saw Joe, her dad's only other employee standing in front of a pickup truck, tuning up the engine. Joe was a grumpy, stiff string bean of a man, with a craggy face of stubble, wrinkles and pits. He didn't like Cat, which was fine because she didn't care for him either. He was always grumbling to her dad about something she was doing wrong. He thought she was too wild and uncontrolled; she thought he was nosy and smelly. Oddly enough, he disliked her even more than he did Henry. In fact, he and Henry could carry on a decent conversation, while Cat could hardly bear to say a word to him.

Will came out of the office side of the garage, holding a car part and cloth in his hand, whistling to himself. He looked up and smiled,

"Hey, there you two are! Cat, your mom could use some help in the kitchen. We're having a big dinner tonight so I want you to lend a hand alright?"

Cat groaned. She hated cooking. "Dad! _C'mon_…"

But Will shook his head, "Uh, uh. No back talk this time. Just do it. Heath, why don't you come over here, I got some stuff you could help me with. Learn the family business eh?" He chuckled as Heath nodded and began walking over toward the garage. When Cat still hesitated, he firmly pointed to the house to urge her in. Rolling her eyes, she trudged toward the porch.

Inside, it smelled wonderful, the aroma of food already in the air. Setting her backpack down by the door, Cat called out, "Mom? Mom where are you?"

"In here, Cat." came Tina's tired voice from the kitchen. When she came in, she saw her mother standing at the counter, quickly stirring what looked like cake batter in a bowl. The kitchen had become a crowded mess of pots and pans of vegetables, broths and measuring cups. Inside the oven she saw a roast in an oven bag and pan. Dough for her mother's delicious butter rolls was sitting on the wooden board, ready to be rolled out.

Cat shook her head in confusion, the only times she saw the kitchen like this was at Christmas and Thanksgiving, "Mom… what's going on? What is all this for?"

Tina smiled tightly, stirring even faster as she gave a small shake of her head, "Why don't you ask your father? I'm sure he can give you a better, more convincing reason than I can: I'm just following his orders!"

Cat stared at her, "Wait, this isn't all for Heath?"

"That's right, honey. Your father has invited our friends and their families to dinner tonight to introduce the newest addition to our family. We're going to have a 'big, welcoming celebration _for his new son'_!" she finished bitterly. "He wants everything to be perfect tonight! All for that boy…"

Cat sighed and sat down at the table, "Wow. I knew Dad liked Heath, but I didn't know he was this serious about him."

"Nobody knows what your dad is going to do anymore, Cat." Tina said, "He doesn't bother to tell his family what he intends to do or what they want. He just acts! Last week he brought home a homeless teenager to foster, next week he may bring home a prostitute and tell us to see her as you and Henry's sister from now on!"

"Oh come on Mom, stop overreacting. You know why Dad did this. He just wants-"

"What about what _I_ want, Cat? What about how _I_ feel?! Shouldn't that matter to him? I'm his _wife_!" Her voice cracked and she dropped the bowl in the sink, putting her hands over her face.

Cat sighed again. Her mother was so emotional about everything. "Mom get a grip, pull yourself together. I really don't think it's going to be that bad. I can already tell Heath isn't as nearly as much trouble as Henry. That's something."

Tina sucked in a breath and took up the bowl again, scoffing in disgust as she replied, "Good God, you are _so_ like your father, Cat! The two of you are enough to drive me crazy. You think that just because the boy hasn't caused trouble yet, he won't get worse? You both have always been so quick to put Henry down, but for you to put him under that rag wearing, trashy-"

"Mom, cut it out, that's low! You and Dad were both dirt poor when you got married and you know it."

"I don't care. I don't care about any of that. I can only look to now and see a stranger living in my house, eating my food and stealing my husband away from his family. Cat, that boy has got no _right_ to be here--he's got no right! I look at him and see those wolf eyes, the way he just sulks around this house and I just-- God I hate him! And I'll tell you something else-- I don't care what your father says, I'll never see him as any son of mine. You hear me, never!"

Setting the bowl and spoon down with a clatter, she went over to the dough and began kneading it brusquely, "Did your father send you in here to help me? I know there's no way you came by yourself."

"Yeah, anything I can get for you- besides a baseball bat?" Cat asked dryly.

Her mother sighed, shaking her head, "Come over here and roll out the dough for the bread. We don't have much time, the guests will start coming at seven thirty. I know it may be difficult for you Cat, but try and behave yourself tonight. That means no back talk, no smart remarks and make sure you run a comb through that hair. Sometimes I think you do these things deliberately- just because you know I don't like them!"

"I have an opinion, I make no apologies for it." Cat said simply, breaking off pieces of the dough and rolling them into oval shapes, "And as for my hair, the problem could all be solved if you would just let me get it cut-"

"No, Cat!" Tina snapped, "The day you cut your hair is the day you wish you'd never been born. Even your father agrees with me on that- so don't bother asking again!"

The front door slammed, and the sound of heavy boots echoed no the hall floor. The kitchen door swung open and Henry stopped short in the doorway, surveying the clutter,

"What's going on?" he asked. "We celebratin' something?"

Cat and her mother exchanged uneasy glances, and Tina shook her head again, wiping her hands on her apron and going out the door,

"You tell him Cat, this whole thing is giving me a headache!"

Cat looked back at her brother who was frowning, "What the hell's going on here? Why's Mom look so upset?"

"She's mad about the party." Cat replied quietly, continuing to break off dough.

"What party? What's the occasion? Their anniversary isn't for another two-"

"It isn't for Mom or Dad Henry, and it isn't for me either." Cat let it linger in the air, waiting for realization to sink in for him. She knew the minute that it did.

His face completely changed and he steeled his jaw. "Whose bright idea was this?" he asked tightly.

"As if you even have to ask."

Henry exhaled sharply though his nostrils, his fists clenching at his sides. After a moment, he went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of beer, then went back towards the door,

"Where are you going now?" Cat asked exasperatedly.

"As far the hell away from here as I can get!" Henry threw back, his boots making even heavier sounds on the floor before the front door slammed shut.

Left in silence, Cat sighed and continued her work, "Fasten your seatbelts folks," she mumbled under her breath, "It's gonna be a bumpy night!"

* * *

Usually, Cat was able to withstand scrutiny from those around her without blinking an eyelash. Under normal circumstances, whispers, stares and poorly veiled derision rolled off of her like water.

But that night, she felt more uncomfortable than she had ever felt before in her life.

As soon as the very first family out of a total four invited came into the house, Cat was able to tell that they had come out of sheer curiosity and not friendship to her family. The questions they asked betrayed them, the comments they made were too snide, too blunt to be friendly. All they wanted to do was see Heath. And when they did, their reactions were poorly concealed.

Some spoke to him politely enough, but in some of their eyes (particularly her mother's female friends) there was the chill of icy civility; that courtesy that stung more than any outright insult could. Cat could have crawled under the table and died when her mother's closest friend, Kelly Blake, asked Heath a myriad of questions involving his background. Heath's face was completely expressionless when she questioned him as to the whereabouts of his parents, how he had lived before Will had "rescued" him, what he was doing lurking around a bar in the first place.

And her mother thought that _she_ was rude?

If Heath was offended by the questions of the impolite guests, he didn't show it. His replies were short and unspectacular. He didn't know his parents, and didn't remember much from his early childhood at all. He didn't (or simply wouldn't) talk very much about his lifestyle before he'd come to live with the Earnshawls. He'd survived. He wanted to try and forget that part of his life.

The questions continued, on and on, until finally Cat's dad came into the room and abruptly interrupted the interrogation-like inquiries by announcing that dinner was ready.

Cat sat between her dad and Heath at the table, Henry sitting directly across from her, and her mother at the other end. It was very awkward for the first few minutes, with no one saying very much. Then one of her dad's football buddies, said brightly,

"So Will, how's it coming in the Heights? You were telling' me a few weeks you thought you might need some help in runnin' it."

Will nodded, "Joe's a great mechanic; knows how to do just about anything with cars. But business has been getting' more busy-and not that I'm complainin' mind, but ever since word got out that we restore cars and bikes pretty good, orders have been comin in from all over. For a while I thought I might have to start lookin for a new worker, which didn't sit well with me, seein as how you know I like workin with familiar faces, then I met Heath here," He nodded to Heath, smiling warmly, "And I think we'll do just fine now."

"Ohhh," the man said, "so you know something about cars do you, boy?"

"More than I did at his age," Will said proudly, "And he learns even quicker. We got done twice as much work today with his help. Looks like he'll be going into the family business in no time!"

Another man sitting next to Henry joked, "Cat, Henry--you gonna let him show the two of you up to your own dad? When are you two gonna start workin for your keep? That's the way my dad did it with me and my brothers!"

Cat gave a short smile in reply while Henry snapped, "We could be making even more money than we do with The Heights--much more. There's a goldmine under that heap of junk and we're just letting it sit there-"

Will cut him off, "Don't start that mess again Henry. And you watch what you say, you hear? The Heights is the heart of this place--been in the family for three generations."

"What's he mean though, Will?" His friend asked.

Cat's dad sighed heavily, "Oh Henry's got it in his mind that we could sell this land for more'n it's actually worth. Both him and Cat are so set on leavin' this place. But I don't pay em no mind about any of that. Money isn't everythin' you know--some things can't be bought."

"Willie you sound like a damn fool," one of the women said, "Money's everythin' to people like us. Why, with that kind of money, the whole clan of you could pack up the truck and move to Beverley--get outta this shit splat of a town! Do it for your kids if nothing else. No kid wants to be stuck here the rest of their lives! Ain't that right Cat?"

Before Cat could answer, Will replied firmly, "They won't find what they're lookin' for out in California or anywhere else if they don't know what they got here first. Home's all you got when money runs out, Lila. You got a home, you got everything. That's the problem with young people these days; placin' store by things that aren't worth a rat's ass. My home is worth everything to me, and I'm not giving it up for nothing either. My kids need to know that."

Cat loved her dad, but she didn't understand the part of him that thought like that. More than anything, she wanted to leave the town, leave her home. She'd leave and never look back, going exactly where she pleased, living however she wanted to. There was no future for her here-- none that she would accept anyway.

She was going to get out of there. She _was_.

* * *

Hours later, Cat stood before the sink in the kitchen, rinsing off the dirty dishes from dinner and loading them into the dishwasher. Her mother was scraping the left over food into Tupperware containers to be stored in the fridge for tomorrow's dinner. Her dad, Henry and Heath were out in the garage, but Cat doubted that Henry had stayed there very long. The Heights had never meant very much to him, and he wasn't likely to start showing interest now- especially since Will had taken to training Heath. Henry would never put himself in a position to be embarrassed and compared to him.

Her mind wandered to the surprise Heath had said he wanted show her tonight. It was getting late; soon it would be midnight, and she would decide whether or not to go. The decision was really only half-hearted. Cat's curiosity always got the best of her. She'd go. She'd known that from the moment he'd asked her to. If the surprise was a bad one, she'd just enjoy laughing in his face at his attempt to please her.

Tina sighed heavily and flexed her back, placing a hand to her belly at the same time. "Cat, take the trash out to the back will you- I'll finish up the dishes."

Hauling the heavy black bag on her shoulder, Cat went out the back door and to the trash cans that sat just outside the back end of The Heights. The windows were open, and she heard voices inside. Setting down the bag on the ground, Cat climbed on top of one of the cans, and peeked inside the pane.

Heath and her dad were bent over a table near the window, looking at what looked like a magazine with various pictures of motorcycles in it. Henry was sitting in a corner on the other side of the room, leaned back against the wall as he puffed on a cigarette. His eyes were narrowed into slits, but Cat could tell that he was paying full attention to the others.

"Check out this beaut, Heath," her dad was saying, "Vintage 1936 Indian Chief. Vertical twin, factory prototype racer. Still has original paint, parked since last raced in 1960." He whistled under his breath, "We get that thing in here, replace the engine and gas tanks- she'd be worth her weight in gold! What do you think? Would you like her?"

Heath shrugged, "It's a real nice bike, sir. Anyone would like her."

"Or look at this one here: Cat's been begging me for this one. 1983 HD Super Glide. Nothin to the Chief, but for a new bike it's not bad. I got a friend at Harley that says he can get me a good price on it--" He chuckled lightly, "Boy could you just picture Cat on that thing?"

Heath nodded, "Yeah," he said softly, "I sure can."

"Girl can't act like a female if her life depended on it!" he Will said jokingly, "She's been hangin' around me too much. Her mother's scared she'll end up a tom boy. She never played with Barbies or wanted to play dress up or anything like that when she was little. Cat loved to play rough- at one point I had to tell Henry not to play fight with her anymore, he would forget she was a girl and go too far- didn't you Henry?"

Henry answered back, "Whatever you say, Dad!"

"Yeah, you're still bitter about that, aren't you?" His dad said musingly, "Sometimes she gave you back just as good as you gave- gave him a bloody nose and a shiner once, Cat walked away without a scratch. You remember that Henry?"

"There's a detour on my memory lane, I'll have to get back to you on that one." He answered drily.

Looking at his watch, Will said, "Well it's not too late for a beer: you wanna come out with me to the roadhouse for a stiff one and a game of pool, Heath? Maybe I can try to win back some of that cash I still owe you!"

Heath shook his head, "No thanks sir, I think I'll just stay here if it's alright with you."

Will nodded, and Cat noticed that he didn't extend the invitation to Henry. She wondered if he noticed it too. "Alright then. I need one though, so I'm gonna head out there. Why don't the two of you clean up and shut off in here for me?" He started to go out, then stopped short, "Henry, that's means you too- get up off your lazy butt and help out for once, you got it?"

Exhaling from his cigarette, Henry stood up to his feet and stubbed it out, "But of course!" he said with false enthusiasm.

When Will was gone, the two of them looked at each other in silence for a long moment until finally Heath gestured to the magazines saying, "I'll put away the magazines, you just put out the lights."

Henry smirked, a short laugh escaping his lips, "Put out the lights. That doesn't sound like too bad an idea." Coming towards where Heath stood by the table, Henry repeated, this time in more solemn a tone, "Yeah…that doesn't sound like too bad an idea at all. How 'bout I just put out yours?" Suddenly, without any warning, he drew back his fist and rammed it into Heath's stomach, making him double over to the ground. But Henry wasn't done yet, as soon as Heath hit the floor, he drew back his foot and kicked him in the ribs with a low grunt. When he was sure his victim wouldn't move, Cat heard him say in a tone she'd never heard come from out of his mouth, "As long as you're gonna be around for a while, you better get one thing straight, jackass: You don't belong here, you understand me? My father may like you more than me, he may treat you better than he does me, hell, the son of a bitch may even love you more than me--it'll never change the fact that nothing here'll ever belong to you. The only place you'll ever really be able to call home is that gutter he found you in. The day you forget that is the day I kick your ass back to it for good, got that?" Without waiting for a response, Henry turned on his heel and left the garage, slamming the door after him.

Heath hadn't moved.

Cat was shocked and somewhat scared that throughout the entire ordeal Heath had hardly made any indication of movement, much less speech. What if Henry had beat him up too bad? What if he was seriously hurt? All of these questions fearfully raced through her mind, then she watched as Heath slowly rose up on his knees, clasping his stomach as he coughed heavily. Gripping the side of the table, he got up to his feet and leaned against the countertop for a long moment, catching his breath. Then, he proceeded to put the magazines back, stacking them neatly on the shelf. After shutting off all the lights, he closed the garage doors, went out the front entrance and back towards the house, walking only a little stooped over. His face betrayed nothing. Nothing at all.

Cat stared after him, slightly shivering in the brisk wind. Throwing the trash bag into the can, she went back into the house.

She stopped short in the doorway when she saw her mother bent over the kitchen sink, vomiting into the drain. Tina had the faucet running as she heaved, her face was flushed and harrowing.

"Mom?" Cat asked confusedly, and her mother whirled around in shock, "Mom are you alright?"

Tina scooped up a handful of water in her hand and rinsed her mouth out before shutting off the water. "Y-yes, she murmured faintly, and Cat noticed that her voice shook, "I'm fine Cat. Just fine."

"Well what's the matter, is it something that you ate tonight?"

Tina laughed weakly, "Oh you hush your mouth young lady- no food to ever come out of my kitchen's been known to make anyone sick!"

"Then what's wrong?"

Her mother, suddenly busied herself with wiping out the sink vigorously, "Good heavens Cat, this coming from you? Worry? Fear? Concern? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"

"You're not pregnant are you?" Cat asked stonily, "Please Mom- _please_ tell me that you are not pregnant. Not again."

"Don't you lecture me Cat," her mother said defensively, "Do you hear me? I'm your mother- don't you dare judge me!"

"You are, I knew it!" Cat cried out dismayingly, turning around and throwing her hands in the air, "Mom have you lost your mind?! You remember what happened the last time, why would you put yourself through that again- why would you put us through it, Mom - _why_?"

"It's my choice Cat." Tina declared steadily, "It's my body, and now it's my baby. I wanted it, and I'm keeping it."

"And what about Dad? Shouldn't he have a say in this too? He obviously had a hand in it- what's he going to say when he finds out you stopped the birth control?"

Tina swiftly drew a finger to her lips, "Lower your voice!" she hissed, then drew herself up stiffly, "And as for consulting your father, I didn't feel like I had to- and I still don't. He didn't consult me when he brought home that boy did he? Maybe he'll understand now what it feels like to have to have to stand back and watch something you didn't want invade your house!"

"So that's what this is about?" Cat asked incredulously, "You wanted to have a baby to get back at him?!"

"Cat, if you ever say something like that again, I swear on this baby's life that I will knock you down!" Her mother said shakily, "I am your mother, you are my child, and you will not talk to me that way, do you understand? Now I want you to leave me alone! Now!"

Cat smiled tightly, "Gladly!" she retorted and swept past her mother back out the door. Glancing at her watch, she immediately perked up in attention,

Midnight.

Suddenly the sound of rumbling thunder rolled from the forest and a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Cat hesitated, not knowing what to do.

After a long moment, she steeled her jaw and tied her hair up in a ponytail. Taking long, swift strides, she started across the wide, blank slate of field, taking care to walk in the cleared dirt path that she'd come to know so well. In a matter of ten minutes, she would be able to see her favorite tree, the willow branches hanging and fluttering in the wind.

And just maybe, she would find a boy with piercing green eyes and a silent, subdued manner waiting for her.


	5. Chapter 5: Meeting at Midnight

_A/N: Finally we get to Cat and Heath's 'outing' with each other- sorry for the wait on that. I had fun writing this chapter, HC interaction is defs gonna be fun for me in the future, I can already tell. And of course, thank you to Brittany- your comments make my day._

**Chapter Five: Meeting At Midnight**

The thunder was louder now, and the lightning more frequent when Cat reached her tree. Walking around the base of the wide trunk, she looked around, but saw no one. Taking a few steps backward, she looked up into the branches of the tree, scanning for any sign of a body, but none was there.

Sighing exasperatedly, Cat stamped her foot in frustration, and looked out across the wide open plain of field. She felt stupid and foolish for coming, and at this moment wanted nothing more than to finish what Henry had started in the garage back at-

"You're late."

She whirled around in surprise at the voice, as a flash of lightning lit up the sky. Heath was standing a few feet behind her, an arm leaned up against the tree. There was a faint smile on his face and his eyes seem almost ethereal in the purple flashing lights.

As he began walking towards her, Cat retorted, "Only by seven minutes- and didn't you just get here too?"

"Uh uh," he said, shaking his head, "I've been waiting for you. I knew that you would come."

Cat raised an eyebrow pointedly, "I almost didn't." she lied, "It's going to rain in case you haven't noticed, and I could get in trouble if we get caught. My dad will think it's my fault and that I lured you out here."

"You won't get in trouble." There was such a tone of certainty in his voice, it rested in his eyes as well, "I promise. I'll tell your dad the truth if we get caught."

Snorting, Cat smiled sardonically, "Well in that case we're safe," she replied, "My dad couldn't get mad at you even if he wanted to! But whatever this surprise is, it had better be worth it! I've been coming to this tree for years now, and there isn't anything that I don't know about it."

"It isn't here," Heath replied.

"Then where is it?"

"Follow me." Gesturing with his hand, Heath began swiftly walking toward the darkness of the woods behind the willow. Cat lingered for a moment or two, then ran ahead to catch up with him. It proved to be more and more difficult as they entered the shadows of trees; it was nearly pitch black, and the lightning flashed only at short intervals. Ahead of her, Heath seemed to blend into the darkness, moving comfortably and confidently at a brisk pace. She didn't understand how he could act so at home in the woods when he'd only been there little over a week. She knew this place like the back of her hand in the day- but at night…

It began to rain, and Cat struggled even harder to stay behind him, but eventually he walked further and further ahead until she could no longer see him in the dark, or in the flashes of lightning. Pausing in her tracks, Cat strained to look ahead and around her, calling out above the roar of thunder,

"Wait! Hey, come back! Heath, where are you?"

Suddenly she felt a hand take hold of hers, and she jumped. Somehow, Heath was now beside her, his hand wrapped around hers. It was warm, but rough and leathery. For a long moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Cat couldn't tear her gaze away from the way his eyes seemed to glow all on their own. It was like he was willing or forcing something into her with his stare.

"Stay with me." he said quietly. It was a simple command, but Cat felt a shiver down her spine at the timbre of his voice. It was like he had said something else, something--she didn't even know what, she couldn't explain it. It was all so strange…

He led her through the woods for the rest of the journey, his hand never relinquishing hers, or loosening its firm, steady grip, stopping in a part of the forest that Cat was very unfamiliar with. She hardly ventured this far and deep, having always assumed that there was nothing but more trees and the occasional ditch here.

Letting go of her hand, he went before a ledge of rock and trees, covered with ivy and brambles. Using his arm, he pushed them to one side and Cat started in surprise as she looked into a low, but gaping hole carved into the ledge.

"I'll go first," he said, "Then I'll reach back up to help you down."

"Is it safe down there?" she asked uncertainly, "I mean, what's it like?"

Heath looked back at her and smiled in his familiar, mysterious s way, "You'll only find out if you come." he replied. "C'mon, don't be scared. Besides, you're with me… that means you're safe."

He disappeared in the black void for a moment, then his arms reappeared, followed by his slightly muffled voice, "C'mon-- take my hands and watch your step."

Crouching down on the floor, Cat took hold of Heath's hands and eased her feet down into the hole, scooting her body forward, then gently lowering herself down, deeper and deeper. He called for her to jump, and in another moment, her feet hit solid ground.

It was pitch black inside and as she groped about in the darkness for Heath's hand, she heard what sounded like the striking of a lighter, then saw Heath's face beside her as the flame caught. Raising up the lighter, he shifted it around high in the air, "Look." he said.

Cat dusted off her pants, then looked around curiously. Her mouth parted open a little and she exhaled a long breath, "Wow…"

It was a hidden cavern. The walls and ceiling were hallowed out rock with jagged, pointed surfaces. The ground was a soft dirt, and against the back wall, was a single, thin stream that flowed gently.

"Where does it come from?" she wondered aloud.

"I followed it," he answered, "There's a stream nearby here, it empties into one big lake. It's not very far away. I can show you on our way back. Come over here, look at this."

She followed him to a far corner of the cavern where the wall was more flat and level. Raising the lighter to the wall, he ran his fingers over an etching in the stone. Some initials had been made beside each other, surrounded by a heart, _'G loves L'_

"I wonder who made them…" Cat wondered aloud.

Heath ran his hands over them as he said, "The markings seem pretty old. Who knows when they were made…"

"My mother would think it was romantic," she said drily. "What a crock."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "Love is such a waste. Of time, of hurt, of everything. It may seem worth it in the beginning, but in the end it always backfires. Just look at my parents; there was a time when they were in love if you can believe it!"

"Your parents do still love each other." Heath replied.

Cat raised a brow skeptically, "Yeah? How do you figure that?"

"I can tell. They do."

"Then why do they always fight? You've heard them, you've seen them. Everything's always been a crisis between them-- I just don't get it!"

"For them, love may be pain. People deal differently with death. Maybe this is their way."

Cat winced, "Dad told you about the dead babies?"

"Yes."

There was a long moment of silence, then, "My mom's pregnant again." she blurted out. Cat wasn't sure why she'd felt the need to say the words; they just came out.

But Heath's expression didn't change, nor did his voice, "Your Dad'll be happy about that." he stated simply.

"He doesn't know. And anyways, it won't make much of a difference now that you're here… She may not even live, you know. My mom- she may die this time."

"Maybe she won't."

"Yeah? Then where would that leave you? Aren't you worried about what that might mean?"

He didn't answer.

Cat shook her head and crossed her arms, "Never mind." she said quietly, "It wouldn't matter anyway. Baby or no baby, Dad would never--you know what I mean."

They both were silent again. The sound of the rain outside pounded against the ceiling of the cave like a soft, distant drum and the water swished faster in its trail.

"Are you sorry I came?" Heath asked. He was still looking at the wall and his face had become blank and expressionless.

The question caught Cat off guard and for a moment, she didn't know how to answer. "I-" she stammered, "I don't know. I don't even know you yet… But you're alright I guess." She paused, then added, "I'm not like my brother you know. I'm nothing like him."

Heath glanced at her, and she could tell that he knew now that she'd seen him in the garage with Henry.

When he replied, his voice was so quiet, she had to strain to listen, "I know that." He walked past her, heading back toward the entrance, "C'mon, I'll show you that river now."

It was pouring when they got back outside, but Cat didn't mind. Heath didn't seem to either, taking her hand again and leading her a few feet away from the mouth of the cavern. Parting another wall of bushes, Heath gestured with his head, "Go ahead, it's just through there."

The river was almost entirely surrounded by river birches, with branches that stretched high in the air, colliding with one another until their leaves made a sort of canopy in the sky.

As the lightning flashed, Cat stepped forward and keened her head back to look up at the leaved ceiling. She shook her head, murmuring her thoughts aloud, "I always wanted to go to a place like this… I thought I would have to leave home to find it though."

"I knew you'd like it." Heath said. "That's why I had to show you."

"How did you find this place?" she asked, turning to look back at him, "I've lived here all my life. I thought I'd scoured every inch of this forest, that I knew every part of it- but I never even knew that this was here… How did you?"

Heath shrugged, "You can't find something you're not looking for. I found it by accident, when I was just exploring."

"But when?"

"A lot of it I found at night, at times like these. Like that first night your dad brought me here; that was when I found the cave. I didn't find the river until the night after that."

Cat blushed, feeling sheepish. He'd been out here in the dark because she'd shut him out of her bedroom.

"I wonder if anyone else knows about these places." she said.

"I don't think so. You have to look hard to find them."

The thunder crashed again and lightning flashed. Heath went forward to take her hand, saying, "C'mon, we'd better go. It's getting worse."

"So what?" Cat asked, "I don't mind."

"It isn't safe to be here in a storm. Lightning hits a tree you're standing under, it could hit you too."

"I think that would be fun!" Cat said playfully, and Heath looked back at her curiously,

"Getting struck by lightning?" he said in surprise.

"Sure!" Freeing her hand from his, Cat stopped in her tracks and spread her arms out wide, lifting her head to the sky, "One electric bolt races through your body, and suddenly ever nerve is wide awake, every sense is wildly alert. You're more alive than you've ever been before in your life. And afterwards you're still feeling it- it never ever goes away."

"'It'?"

"That breath of life." Cat said, "God's breath. That's what it is you know. God trying to breathe into our lungs."

"Then why do some people die after being struck?"

Cat shrugged disgustfully, "Because they weren't strong enough. They couldn't handle it. They have to settle for things like rain and snow, things that melt and dry up. Nothing can destroy lightning- it goes away on it's own."

"And you _are _strong enough to get struck by lightning?" Heath asked musingly, a light smile on his lips.

"Of course!" Cat exclaimed, "I'm strong enough for anything, absolutely anything! I won't die by something as silly as lightning- that isn't how I'm going to go- not me."

"How do you want to die?" Heath asked.

Cat paused, lowering her arms and using them to hug herself as she thought, "The sea." she said at last. "If I have to die, I'd want the sea to take me."

"Drowning is painful," he said, "Your lungs would fill with water and burst."

She shook her head and began walking again, "It doesn't matter." she said, "The sea is the only thing that I'd want to let kill me. It's the only thing strong enough to control me. It's full of so much life, so much power. I'd become apart of that if I drowned, share in the spirit of it. My lungs wouldn't be filled with water- they'd be filled with that spirit. The pain would be worth it." she glanced at him and smiled, "You must think I'm crazy!"

Heath shook his head, "No. I don't think you're crazy."

"Well, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How do you want to die?"

Heath was silent for a long time, and at first Cat thought he would ignore her, but then he replied, "Any how, anywhere… so long as I'm not alone. I hate that… being completely alone in the world, when no one cares whether you live or die at all. No one should have to live like that. Nobody."

Cat's expression softened, "You're not alone here."

Their eyes met again and Heath smiled at her again. Without saying anything at all, he took up her hand again, weaving his fingers through her own. Cat returned the firm grip. She had decided that she liked Heath. 

There was something about him that fascinated her. It had felt so easy to tell him things about herself that not even her dad knew, so easy to just _be_. There was something in his quiet, calm look, his replies to her, that was so wonderfully accepting. She would appreciate having him around.

As they emerged from the darkness of the forest, the thunder crashed more louder than ever and as if on cue, the rain started pouring down from the sky in stinging torrents. Cat and Heath squinted at each other in rueful amusement. Cat yanked the scrunchie off of her hair and shook out her now drenched hair, laughing good naturedly.

"What do we do now?" she shouted over the rain.

Heath strained to look ahead in the distance, then pointed with his finger,

"The house is that way. If we run, we should get there in ten minutes or so. Do you think you can make it?"

"What?" she asked, "Did you say run?"

"Yeah," he said loudly, "Can you see well enough to run?"

"No!" she shouted, then grinned wickedly, "But I'm going to run anyway!"

And with that, Cat tore down the wide empty field. After a moment, she looked back behind her. Heath was already starting after her and she laughed excitedly as she saw that he meant to try and catch her. She knew that she was probably going the wrong way to get home, but she didn't care. This was fun.

Suddenly, she slipped on a puddle of wet, muddy grass and fell flat on her back, hearing the squish on her clothes as she landed. Cat wasn't hurt, but saw Heath running toward her and drew her leg up so that the ankle was pointed at a sharp angle and held it, grimacing her features.

"My ankle!" she cried out as he approached her, "I think I twisted it- oh God, it hurts!" she groaned in false pain.

"Do you want me to go and get your dad?" he asked.

Cat shook her head vigorously, "No! No just-- just give me your hand to help me up, I think I can make it back to the house."

Just as Heath's hand closed around hers, Cat tightened her grip and gave a strong tug, and in another moment, he was down beside her in the mud, his face stunned with shock. She laughed uproariously at his expression, holding her stomach as she gasped for breath, "The look… oh God, the look on your face!"

Slowly, a smile cracked across Heath's lips and he nodded ruefully, "Alright," he said, "So, you think this," he pointed to his mud splattered clothes, "You think this is funny?"

Cat nodded in between giggles, "Yeah, I do!"

Smoothing back his rain soaked hair, Heath reached down into the mud and scooped up two handfuls of the brown, squishy mush, "Why don't you try and get a little laugh out of this?"

Cat gasped, "You wouldn't da--ah!" she screamed out as the mud hit her square in the face. When she wiped her eyes, she saw that Heath was now keeled over, holding his own stomach with one hand as he laughed and pointed at her with the other,

"You're right," he said, "It is funny!"

Cat smiled, feeling her excitement begin to gain momentum, "Oh," she breathed out, "It's on now, buddy- it is _on_!"

Lunging for him, Cat pinned Heath down on the ground and began smearing mud over his face. When he managed to wipe his eyes, he grabbed hold of her arms and pushed her on her side, planting a glob of mud in Cat's hair. From then, it turned into a full out mud slinging war, the two of them laughing and screaming the whole time.

Finally, when Heath was about to pelt her with two handfuls more, Cat held up her hands frantically, crying out, "Wait! Wait! I give up--I give up I swear!"

Lowering the mud, he looked at her skeptically, "Really?"

"Yeah, really. C'mon, let's get back to the house." Starting to walk back in the direction of the house, Cat passed by him, then in a split second, rammed her shoulder into his chest, and tackled him to the ground again.

But Heath recovered quickly. She'd barely had time to pummel him with more mud, when he'd, with seemingly very little effort at all, forced his own body back up and flipped hers down so that their positions were switched.

Cat tried to fight her way back up, but this time was different; he was like stone; immovable and strong. When she tried to beat at his chest and shoulders, he pinned her arms down. Groaning in frustration, and laughing at herself, Cat said, "Alright I mean it now- let me up!"

"Do you give up?" Heath asked, his green eyes glowing.

"Ughhh…" she moaned, "Yeah, I give up."

"Say it louder."

"I give up." Cat said begrudgingly.

"Louder."

"I give up!" she shouted out above the rain and storm.

For a long moment, he still didn't move, and Cat thought she saw a new look enter his eyes as he stared down at her. It disappeared as quickly as it had come however, and in the next moment, he rose back up to his feet and held out his hand to help her up.

She did so with some difficulty, feeling sore in her back and head.

Groaning good naturedly, Cat said, "You've got one hell of a tackle there, buddy! God!"

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"Nothin I'm not used to." she replied nonchalantly, "I mean c'mon, Henry's my brother: what else do I know?"

Taking up her hand, he said, "C'mon let's hurry." and began to run again. The rain was almost impossible for her to see through but Heath was running like it was sunny and clear out. Eventually, his hand around hers was the only thing that was guiding her through the storm. As they got closer to home, Cat pointed with her finger towards The Heights, "I climb up over there." Her bedroom was positioned so that she could climb out of her window, down the tree and then shimmy down the drainpipe that ran along the wall of the auto shop.

Sliding her wet hand out of his, Cat murmured a "Thanks," then started to climb up. But when she looked back, she saw that Heath had already started back in the direction of the forest. Frowning, she yelled out, "Hey!"

He turned and looked back at her, and she paused, then called, "You can come up if you want!"

When he hesitated, she gestured with her hand and urged, "C'mon!"

Nodding slowly, Heath started back over to her, then followed her up the pipe.

Fitting her fingers into the crack in her window, Cat managed to push it open, then took off her shoes before climbing inside her bedroom. Flipping on the light, she rummaged in one of her drawers and took out and old t shirt and spread it out on her desk chair.

"Here," she said to Heath who had just climbed inside, "Sit down. I'll try and hunt down some clothes for you to wear in the laundry room. You remember where the towels are right?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Well you can get started on your shower if you want. My bathroom's through here," she nodded to the door beside her closet, "So don't worry about being quick or anything. Just try and be quiet so you don't wake anyone up. Be right back."

Going out into the hall and down the stairs, Cat went into the laundry room and pulled out a pair of shorts and shirt from the clean clothes basket. When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the shower running in the hall bathroom and started back for her room, then was startled at the sound of a voice,

"Wild night, Cat?"

Whirling around, she frowned at Henry who leaned in the door way of his room, arms crossed. He looked her up and down and laughed sardonically, "Been rolling around in the mud with the pig, have we?"

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Beat it, loser."

"Gladly!" Henry remarked, "I want nothing' more than to beat the living hell outta that trashy son of a-"

"He's really not all that bad, Henry." Cat said impatiently, "I don't know what your problem is, but I think it's time you got over this little hate thing you got for him: it's getting old."

He snickered, "That's right Cat. Side with good old Dad and welcome the little orphan with open arms." His face changed and he said thickly, _He's _my problem, Cat. Every time I look at him, all I want to do is beat him shitless-"

"Oh, you mean like you did earlier?" Cat said before thinking. But Henry didn't look surprised, only smiling tightly,

"That was nothing, little sister. There's much more where that came from, and next time, it'll be a crowbar I ram in his gut and not my fist. Hell, maybe I'll bring a few of the guys to help me out next time. We could give ourselves a right good time-"

Cat shook her head disgustedly and went back towards her room, "I don't have to listen to this garbage!"

Shutting her door to block out the sound of Henry's laughing, Cat placed the clothes down on her bed, then proceeded to take off her own mud splattered ones. When she came out of the shower thirty minutes later, wrapped in her bathrobe, Heath was dressed in the pajama pants and top, looking at the posters of celebrities and stars she'd put on her wall.

"You like em?" Cat asked good naturedly, shaking out her hair, "Meet Tom, Demi, Patrick, Brooke, and Madonna--the best friends a girl can have! My stars are everything to me. They're the only link I have to the real world!"

Heath continued to look at the pictures, asking quietly, "You don't like your home?"

Cat was rifling through her drawers, hunting for a set of pjs. She groaned, "Oh, God no! I can't stand being out here away from everything and everyone that matters. Sometimes I wonder if I was born to my parents by accident; if I was supposed to be someone else's daughter, have a different life. Anything's got to be better than this!"

"But you seem so at home with the nature around here," Heath said, "And what about your Dad?"

Cat went into the bathroom with the pajamas, leaving the door open a crack, "Oh, don't get me wrong," she said as she changed, "I love the wilderness, the freeness of it all- there'll never be another place in the world like this to me. It's my home. And Dad's always been the best father I could ever have--but," She came back out and went to hang her robe back in the closet, "I just always wanted something more than that, you know?" Sitting down on her bed, she swept her damp hair to one side of her face and started swinging her leg back and forth.

"What do you want?" Heath asked.

"I want to be famous." Cat said excitedly, "I don't even know what I want to be-- an actress, model, singer-- whatever, I just want everyone to know who I am. To be able to feel… I don't know, the excitement that comes with knowing that people love you, that they can't wait to see you, be near you."

"You think that that's what celebrities feel like?"

Cat gave a small laugh, "Well yeah- what else would they feel like?"

Heath shrugged, "I guess I just thought that they may be unhappy. It can't easy belonging to so many people. I think they may be empty… and lonely."

Scoffing patiently, Cat replied, "That's because you think too much! You just need to loosen up a little. C'mon Heath: it's a big world out there, we don't have to stay here and miss out on it for the rest of our lives! Don't you want to go?"

Heath shook his head, "No," he said shortly, "I don't."

Cat sighed exasperatedly, leaning back against her pillows, "You're as bad as my mom. _And_ my dad. All their talk about home and family…'_Family_'," she scoffed again, "Since when have we ever been a family around here? They're living in a pipe dream and they know it!"

"You don't want what's out there." Heath said, "You just think you do."

Raising herself up on her elbow, Cat retorted defensively, "Yeah? How do you know that?"

"I know." he said quietly, "You don't. You've got everything you need here… Everything."

"I'm tired of just getting what I need," she said wearily, "Why can't I get what I want too?"

There was no reply, and Cat sighed heavily, "What I want right now is to get some sleep!" Reaching beside her, she snatched up one of her pillows and tossed it in Heath's direction, "Here, catch!" she said, then threw him the flannel blanket that was folded at the foot of her bed, "You can sleep on the floor…until you and Dad finish your room that is- then I'm throwin you out: I'm not used to sharing my room, and I'm not about to start either!"

Heath smiled as he stretched out beneath the blanket and folded his arms behind his head, "Don't worry: you won't even know I'm here."

"Well, I can't say the same for myself," Cat replied as she pulled her comforter over her body, "I'm a really loud snorer, so you may want to get a pair of earplugs for further reference!"

Thanks for the tip," he said jokingly, "By the way, is it a nasal or throat problem?"

"Oh it's both buddy," Cat answered, "And the best part is that there's nothing short of an operation that the doctors can do about it! They say they've never seen a patient with a more symphonic range!"

They laughed softly and smiled at one another for a moment.

"Hey listen," Cat said, "I had a real good time tonight."

"Oh you did, did you?" Heath replied, "Well then: we'll just have to do it again tomorrow night, won't we?"

She nodded, "Yeah… that'd be awesome."

He raised a finger at her warningly, "But no cheating next time, got it?"

Cat giggled and nodded again, "Okay, you're on! I intend to show _no mercy _though!"

"I'm looking forward to it." he said steadily and Cat felt herself become flushed again at the look in his eyes. She smiled hurriedly, "Well… good night then!"

Reaching over, she switched off the bedside lamp and lay back in the comforting darkness, closing her eyes.

Then she heard his voice again, more smooth and husky than ever when in the darkness,

"Goodnight Cat."


	6. Chapter 6: Heath's Talents Pt 1

_A/N: This is where I start to take the story and sorta of make it into my own 'modern' day rendition, simply so that I can further develop the ideas I have for the plot in the future. Not to worry, nothing drastic. Thanks for the encouragement, Brittany._

**This is Chapter Six: Heath's Talents Pt 1**

It was a lazy, hot Saturday afternoon. Cat was in the auto shop office, lounging in her dad's high backed swivel chair, her legs stuck up high in the air as she worked on her history homework. Through the transparent glass, she could see into the garage, where Heath was working with her dad while Joe spun and tested the tires on a truck. Her mother was inside the house sleeping, and Henry had went out with his friends last night and was still gone, to no one's surprise.

Cat sighed languidly. She was so bored. She hated homework, and she hated history, which made it even worse. But her test scores had been low and her dad always came down on her hard when that happened. He would personally see to it that she did her homework and studied-until she started doing well again. Then he became lax again and she was able to relax.

But Cat couldn't concentrate now. Her nerves were still on a high from the night before, and she could still feel the adrenaline rush she'd had. Over the past few weeks, she and Heath had spent almost every night out in the woods together. The sky had been perfectly clear and free of clouds and he'd taken her back out to the cave and river. They discovered a kind of hole in the ceiling of the cave that let the moonlight stream inside with a bright, silver glow. There was a family of chipmunks that lived in a dark, earthen corner of the cave and Cat thought that they were adorable and always brought bread crusts or saltine crackers to feed to them.

It had been very cold for a few nights, and Heath would build a fire in the cave directly beneath the hole so that the smoke could rise up out of it. They even roasted marshmallows one time; eating and laughing as they began pelting one another with the white confections.

Cat had never felt so able to be so free. If she was wild before Heath came, she became completely untamable now that he was with her. Everything she did, everything she said seemed to amuse him. Everything he did and said excited her. He was daring and calm, which complemented to her thrilling zestfulness. He made her laugh with his sly comments while she brought a smile to his lips and laughter from his throat with her rambunctious stunts.

Her father had come to adore Heath. It showed in his face, in his eyes, every time he looked at him. There was such a fatherly fondness and affection in the way he placed his hand on Heath's shoulder, in the eagerness he showed in working with him in The Heights. In fact, whenever Heath wasn't at school, he was doing something with Will. Of course this was only during the day; the night belonged to Cat alone.

Henry still despised him. Cat had finally come to understand that that was something that would never change. She hadn't seen her brother physically assault Heath since that night in the garage, but she wasn't altogether sure that he hadn't done it since. She found that it was something that she would rather not think about, and also not bring it up to Heath.

Her mother resented him. Cat noticed the way she tried to never have to directly speak to or address him. She'd never even called Heath by his name yet. He was always 'the boy,' or 'him', 'he'- never Heath. And yet, she was wildly jealous of him for the attention her husband paid to him, and not to mention the rest of the family. Even Cat had taken a back seat to her dad's affections for Heath's sake. True, as his only daughter, he still favored her, but Heath was something different. Cat didn't mind- at least not as much as her mother and Henry did. Heath was quickly becoming the best, and perhaps only real friend she'd ever had, and so long as her father was lenient with her when it came to her freedoms, she didn't mind if he paid her less attention.

At last, Cat tossed the heavy text book on the desk in front of her in frustration. Getting up from the chair, she wandered into the shop and over to where Heath and her dad were working. As she passed by Joe, she heard him grumble, "Can't you stay outta here for five minutes, girl? What do you want now?"

"I want you to mind your own business!" Cat retorted hotly, brushing right past him.

Heath was sitting behind the wheel of the car while Will was laying beneath it, tinkering with the inside. She folded her arms in the empty window and leaned inside, sighing discontentedly. He gave a small grin and winked at her in greeting, while she asked, "What's goin on?"

"We're just tryin to get this thing started," he replied, "Your dad thinks she's gunked up in the plugs and filters, but I think all she needs is a new carburetor. She's pretty old, and the works are bound to get a little messy. If it's a few pieces gone wrong on the carburetor, no big deal, but if some of the other parts in the engine have been ruined by wear and gunk, it may get a little expensive."

"It looks like a piece of junk to me anyway." Cat remarked as she looked the car over. "It's time to just buy a new car. I swear, if the men in this town pooled together all the money they used to buy beer, then they'd be rich enough to all get a Lexus!"

"What would they do with a Lexus out here Cat?" he asked, "Park em in front of their double wides and cruise through the corn fields?"

She laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I see your point."

"Did you finish the history assignment?"

She rolled her eyes, "How anyone can get through an entire forty two pages of the war of 1812 is beyond me! God, I hate that crap!"

"Yeah, but 'that crap's' a pretty big part of our semester grade," he said, and she nodded,

"I know, I know." she sighed again and lowered her voice, leaning in closer,

"Can't you just let me see yours Heath? You always get A's on Yang's work. It'd be so easy for you to let me see it."

"Almost as easy for you to copy it," he remarked amusingly, "C'mon Cat, you know how your dad feels about that…"

"Please! _Please,_ Heath!" she begged, "This is the last time, I swear!"

"Cat," her dad's voice wafted up from beneath the car, "You better not be askin' Heath to 'help' you with that history again!"

Cat sighed and rolled her eyes at Heath's I-told-you-so grin and answered with dry sarcasm, "No, of _course _not, Dad- I'd rather die!" Looking back at Heath she desperately mouthed out, "Please!" again. He paused and studied her for a moment, then shook his head ruefully and mouthed back, "Maybe."

Already feeling triumphant, Cat leaned in the window again and pressed her lips against Heath's cheek, giving him a quick peck. As she drew back, he tugged playfully on her pigtail.

"Alright, Heath," Will rolled out from under the car and stood up to his feet, brushing off his hands, "I'm not sure what else we can do. I've been tryin' to look for some kind of leakage, but nothing's coming out the back or middle, and the hood's not overheatin'. I may have to tell Ray to start lookin for a new car."

Heath answered, "Let's try to start it one more time sir. I really think it's got something to do with that carburetor."

Will shrugged, "Ok… can't hurt any I guess."

Turning the ignition, Heath revved the engine. From under the hood came a rattling, gurgled sound. "Hear that?" he called, "Sounds like something's come loose." He turned off the ignition and climbed out of the car, lifting up the hood. Sticking his arm down through the many parts, he blindly felt around the central engine area until he nodded, "There it is."

"What?" Will asked, "What is it?"

Heath pulled out a small piece and rolled it over in his hand, "A messed up vent valve. If it's messed up, it makes everything else plugged up; the charcoal canister, hoses and check valves and solenoids. That's why it seemed like the engine was gunked up. We can clean it out and just replace the valve."

Will smiled at him, shaking his head proudly, "I'll be damned! You got some skills boy," Laughing, he patted his shoulder firmly and turned back to the car, "Let's get this baby outta here and rollin!" Looking back at Cat, he pointed at Heath, saying, "Now you see Cat? That's how it's done- that's why we can't ever close this place!"

Cat smiled at him faintly in reply. Going over to the radio, she turned the dial, cranking up the music louder and louder,

_The Love Shack is a little old place where we_

_Can get together, Love Shack baby, Love Shack bay-bee... _

Bobbing her head to the music, Cat began dancing around the garage to the beat, twirling and weaving around the cars. As she passed by Joe, he grumbled, something about her looking ridiculous, but Cat ignored him. Her dad briefly glanced up at her and chuckled, before returning to his work. Heath was leaning against the car, watching her intently. His mouth wasn't smiling, but there was something in his eyes that was. As Cat danced toward him, she reached out her hands and wiggled the fingers,

"C'mon!" she called playfully, "Dance with me!"

Heath smiled, "Uh-uh."

"Uh-huh, come _on_!" she said.

"No, I'm not!" he insisted.

"Yes, you are!" she retorted, grabbing hold of his hands and pulling him closer to her. Heath glanced back at her dad and he waved his hand breezily,

"Go 'head boy- don't let her bully you though!"

Nodding with a begrudging smile, Heath gradually allowed Cat to urge him into the steps and soon they were dancing together around the shop; shifting, turning and dipping amid Cat's infectious laughter. After a while, Cat went over and managed to convince her dad to join them and the three of them danced together in a wild, if not goofy manner, laughing hysterically all the time.

None of them noticed Henry standing outside one of the windows of the auto shop, hands stuffed in his pockets, a scowl on his face. The look on his face as he watched them together was one of anger, disgust…and envy.

* * *

Cat silently pushed the cracked door to Heath's room open and slipped inside, trying to remain quiet. He was sitting with his back to her, bent over his desk as he scribbled in a pad of blank paper.

As she approached closer, she peeked over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

It was an extremely detailed pencil drawing. A girl with dark, voluminous hair had her face turned up to an invisible sky, her eyes closed. The tops of her shoulders and the beginning curve of her bosom was visible before the picture cut off. On the girl's lips was the smallest hint of a smile and she seemed to be basking in the warmth of a sun that shined down on her.

Cat studied the picture thoughtfully for a moment, then blinked twice when she realized that the drawing was of her.

Creeping up close to Heath, she abruptly brought her hands down on his shoulders, whispering in his ear, "Boo!"

He started, then smiled, briefly touching her hand, "Helloo you." he said casually.

Cat gestured to the picture, "That's good. Really good."

Heath shut the notebook and put his pencil behind his ear, leaning back in the chair. "You think so?"

She nodded, folding her arms on the top of his shoulders, "Mmhm… but there's no way my boobs are that big!"

He shrugged, "Wishful thinking, I guess."

They laughed and Cat gave him a little shake, "Why didn't you tell me you could draw like that Heath?"

He answered, "I guess I didn't think it would make much of a difference."

"What else can you do?"

"Just some other stuff- it's not a big deal."

"It could be. You could be an artist- a real one. They make lots of money."

Heath smiled and shook his head, "Nah. That's not for me."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I like it."

Cat came around and sat on the edge of the desk, "But you shouldn't let your talent go to waste. Just think: all of New York could know who you are in a few months!"

"I don't wanna go to New York, Cat." he said simply. "I'm happy here."

"Well yeah I know, but in New York-"

"No Cat." he interrupted firmly, "You don't know. I'm _really_ happy here. I don't want to go anywhere else- ever."

She shook her head, shocked. "How can you say that? How can you feel that way?"

"I got everything I need here- everything I could ever want."

"But _how_?"

He paused, then shook his head, "I just do, alright? Look Cat," he took up her hands, "I know what's out there. I really know. I don't ever want you to have to find out what I did about the world. It's not what you think it is. It's ugly- really ugly. The only world you need to know is this," he stomped the floor gently with his foot, "This world right here; The Heights."

Cat clicked her cheek and rolled her eyes, "Aw Heath, c'mon-"

"No, I mean it. Cat, what's wrong with the life you have now? You and me-- we have fun don't we? Don't you like all the fun we've been havin' the past few weeks? Don't you like hangin' out in the shop with me and your dad?"

"Heath, sure I do." she said, "But you don't really understand what my life's been like for so long. You don't even fully know me. Nobody here does- not even Daddy, and I just-"

"I know you Cat." Heath interrupted. Reaching out, he smoothed back a piece of her hair and traced the line of her temple, "I _know_ you."

"Heath, you've only been here a few months-"

"It doesn't matter. I know that I know you. And you know me."

"I know you're being really annoying right now!" she said pout fully, "If you know me so well, then why don't you understand how I feel?"

"Shhh…" he said, putting his finger over her lips, "No fighting. C'mon, smile for me."

"I don't feel like it!" Cat said, still feeling perturbed.

"Come on, smile…" Heath said coercingly, his fingers reached up and traced the sensitive side of her neck.

Cat brushed his hand aside, "No Heath, I'm serious! I want you to get what I'm saying here!"

"And _I_ want _you_ to smile," Heath said, his hands going to her sides and underarms. Cat tried to fend him and her giggles off, but eventually she gave in and burst into laughter.

Heath brought her arms around his neck and wrapped his loosely around her waist. "There," he said softly, "That's all I need Cat… Just that."

Cat stared down at him and shook her head, "You're crazy." she said amusedly. She hugged him warmly, leaning her head against his shoulder, "You're the only person I know who's as crazy as I am!"

'If you're crazy, so am I." he replied. His voice was muffled in her hair.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I'll be whatever you are." Heath answered, "No matter what."

Cat drew back, shaking her head, "I don't understand talk like that." Climbing off his lap, she gestured with her hand, "C'mon. I'm in the mood for some fun: let's pull a prank on Joe! You know how I love making him mad!"

* * *

_-Hope I made some B-52 fans out there happy with my song selection from the radio! Gimme a break people, the time period of the story is the 80's. And if I made an error in any 'auto mechanic' etiquette or procedures, forgive me. I'm not an expert on fixing cars- as you may imagine. I tried. LOL. Thanks for reading.  
_


	7. Chapter 7: Heath's Talents Pt 2

**Chapter 7: Heath's Talents Pt 2**

Later on that night at dinner, Cat could see that something was wrong with her mother. Her face was pinched and her brow frowned with worry. She'd barely spoken two words together that night, and while she wasn't overly talkative, she wasn't usually this quiet either.

Cat's dad was talking to Heath about the shop, while Henry focused only on his food. Cat pushed her food around on her plate, not feeling hungry for lasagna and vegetables.

The doorbell rang and everyone but Henry looked up from their plates curiously. Cat's mother looked at her expectantly, "Cat honey, will you please get the door?"

Sighing faintly, Cat pushed her chair up from the table and walked down the hall to the front door. Opening it, she was surprised to see the art teacher from her school standing on the porch. His gray, wiry hair stuck out from his scalp like a greasy mop and his glasses were mended with masking tape at the sides. There was a morning shadow on his jaw and he had a funny smell. Cat had only taken his class for a week her freshman year before dropping it for drama. She couldn't imagine what he could be doing here now at this hour.

"Hello Cate." he said brightly. His voice sounded as though he had swallowed helium and she always had to force herself not to burst out laughing when she heard it.

Instead she smiled lightly and replied, "It's Cat actually Mr. Langella, but hi. What can I do for you?"

Nodding his head toward the hall he asked, "Can I uh--?"

Stepping back held the door open, "Sure, come in."

As he did, he looked her up and down and said, "My, but you're getting prettier every time I see you. You'll be quite a little lady soon."

Cat shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't used to being called pretty. The 'pretty' girls were the stiff, prissy brats at school that she always tried to stay away from. "Ye-ah, thanks. Did you want to see my parents?"

"Please." he answered, "And if I could see Heath as well, that would be excellent."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Heath? What's the matter, is he in trouble?" She couldn't see Heath being a troublemaker like Henry. It wasn't like him.

But Mr. Langella shook his head vigorously, "Oh no! No it's nothing of the kind. The opposite actually."

"Ok, I'll be right back." Cat walked down the hall and back into the dining room, "Mom, Dad, Mr. Langella from school's here. He wants to see you."

Will set down his fork with a clatter and glared at Henry, "Alright boy, what the hell did you do now?"

"I didn't do anything!" Henry snapped back.

"Yeah, well we'll just see about that!" Will stood up abruptly from the table and started for the hall, but Cat put her hand on his arm, stopping him,

"Dad, it isn't about Henry. He wants to see you guys about Heath."

Her dad blinked twice, surprised. His face was a mixture of confusion and worry when he looked back at Heath, then at Henry's sneering expression.

"He's not in trouble or anything," Cat said hurriedly, "But he wants to see you and Mom about something--Heath too."

Her parents looked at each other, then at Heath, who looked back at them blankly.

Will gestured to them, "C'mon, let's see what this is all about."

Cat and Henry followed them down the hall to the living room where Mr. Langella was waiting. As they entered, Will went forward immediately, extending his hand, "Mister, welcome to my house."

Mr. Langella shook his hand emphatically, "Mr. Ernshawl, it's a pleasure to meet you." He shook Tina's hand, "Mrs. Ernshawl, a pleasure ma'am. Hello there Heath." Heath nodded to him in reply.

"Is there anything that I can get you Mr. Langella?" She asked, "Something to drink-"

"Oh no please, I'm already intruding on you enough at this hour. I would not have come if I didn't think it important."

"Well, I'm mighty curious." Will said, "I'm only used to getting visits about one of my kids from the school, I hope this ain't one of them kind of meetins!"

Cat winced at the expression on Henry's face. Even she didn't think that remark had been necessary.

Mr. Langella gestured to the sofa, "Perhaps we should sit down?" He settled between Cat's parents, while she and Heath sat together in the love seat, Henry leaned against the wall.

"I just want you to know Mr. and Mrs. Ernshawl that Heath is no trouble whatsoever. In fact, this meeting is only to bring extremely good news. News that I've never had before for any student of mine."

"What's going on?"

"Well you see Mr. Ernshawl, I've come to talk to you about Heath's extraordinary talent in artistry. You are no doubt aware of his abilities but I-"

"No," Cat's dad said in surprise, "No, we had no idea that Heath was a good artist! Cat, did you know that?"

Cat shrugged, mumbling, "A little, I guess."

"I'm not surprised sir," Mr. Langella said ruefully, "Heath is one of those rare specimens in the field of art that doesn't like to enhance his ego by showcasing his work. Perhaps that adds to his uniqueness, and all the better for what I'm about to say. You see sir, for the past month or so I've been having the students experiment with oils on canvas. It is usually quite a difficult thing for them to master, as there is a certain technique to doing it. Heath showed skill at all of our previous units, but it was in oils that I truly began to realize the extent of his talent. Not only did he master the techniques beautifully, but his gift in perception is one that I haven't seen in years. He has a way of displaying a vision that is fascinating and beautiful. Quite honestly, I would call him a protégé."

Cat glanced over at Heath, who had averted his eyes to the floor and hunched his shoulders in on himself. He looked embarrassed.

Her dad seemed speechless. "Well, I- I had no idea about this. I knew Heath was a special kid, but I- I thought he was just handy with cars…"

"Did you come here to only tell us this Mr. Langella?" Cat's mother asked stiffly, "Because to be quite honest, I don't think it merits a home visit. Can't it have waited until a conference-"

"Not at all Mrs. Ernshawl, he assured her, "I was just beginning to get to the point. You see, there is a sort of young people's art competition that held is annually held in New York City in a few months time. It is an extremely prestigious and competitive contest, as youths from all over the nation submit art of all kinds. Usually they are attending some sort of academy or prep school and have the kind of experience to win. It's for this reason that I don't involve the students at our school in the contest. However in Heath's case… I would be willing to make an exception."

"You mean you want Heath to enter the contest?" Cat asked anxiously, "He'd have to go to New York City?" she could feel her excitement building up already.

But Mr. Langella shook his head, "Not necessarily, Cat. You see the art submission gets sent to New York through the mail and judged through a series of rounds by category. If he were to enter the competition thorough an oils submission, I believe that Heath could go far- I even think he'd have a chance at winning!"

"And the prize would be?" Will asked.

The art teacher smiled coolly, "Five thousand dollars and a scholarship to the School of Visual Arts in New York City."

Will whistled through his lips while Tina's jaw dropped. Cat gasped and laughed delightedly, "Oh my _God_!" she cried, clasping Heath's forearm, "Are you serious? All that for painting a picture?"

"As I said Cat, it's a very prestigious competition. Thousands of competitors enter every year. The judging generally takes two to three months. The guidelines and criteria for judging are extremely severe and meticulous. And there are many disappointments given to many wonderful artists."

"Oh, but Heath could take all of them!" she said dismissively, "I _know_ he could really win!"

"Langella, you really think he's got what it takes?" Will asked incredulously.

"Mr. Ernshawl, if you don't believe me, I invite you to come up to the art studio any time and see the work that Heath has done. Even if he doesn't win the competition, his work will get seen by people who could help him just as much as the prize could… perhaps even more. And with his art portfolio, he's almost guaranteed a scholarship somewhere.""

Will laughed, running a hand through his hair, "I- I don't know what to say to all of this!"

From the corner of the room, Henry said sardonically, "You could ask Heath what he thinks Dad- he hasn't said a word about whether or not he even wants to do it or not!"

All eyes in the room turned to Heath who was leaning back in the loveseat pensively, staring at his feet. Cat nudged him with her elbow, urging,

"C'mon Heath, this is incredible! There's no way you can pass this up!"

"Don't force him into anything Cat," Will said, "If the boy don't want to, he don't want to. There's no pressure here son, none at all."

Heath licked his lips, then answered, "I don't know… it's a lot to think about it. Can I think it over for a while?"

Mr. Langella quickly nodded, "Of course. Though I feel I should tell you that if you are seriously considering it, it would be best to start conceptualizing some possible entries for the competition. Many competitors do prepare months in advance…"

"I understand. Thanks for coming Mr. Langella," Heath said, "And for offering me this chance. I appreciate it."

The three adults stood up and headed toward the door, conversing in polite goodbyes and thanks while Cat, Heath and Henry stayed in the living room. Henry snickered dryly,

"Well, well, well, what do you know? A mechanic _and_ an artist. You got more surprises than you do fleas don't you, garbage boy?"

Cat snapped at him sharply, "Stop being jealous and just shut up, Henry!"

Henry scoffed and replied sardonically, "Jealous of what, that the idiot can color a picture?" With a laugh, he left the room saying, "When he puts _his_ art up against all those smart asses from prep schools who've been trained by real professionals, we'll see how 'great' his art is!"

When she heard the door to his room slam shut, Cat shook her head and muttered, "Jerk," before turning back to Heath and pressed, "So do you have an ideas for what you're going to paint for the competition?"

Heath shrugged, "I don't even know if I'm painting anything for it at all. I mean, why?"

Cat was stunned, "_What_? Heath, come on now, get serious. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, something most kids only dream about. Why _wouldn't_ you?"

"Well for starters, winning the competition would mean that I'd have to move to New York."

"And? If that's not the opportunity of a lifetime, then I don't know what is!"

Heath shook his head, "Well that would mean leaving The Heights, being gone for 4 years…maybe even longer."

Cat was still persistent, "You say that like it'd be a bad thing."

"It _would_ be a bad thing, Cat. I don't want to leave the Heights, not for anything."

She drew her mouth down into a small pout, "C'mon Heath, not even for me?"

Heath put a hand over the one she had on his arm. Stroking it lightly, he shrugged and asked simply, "Why do you think I don't want to go in the first place?"

Before Cat had a chance to answer, she was interrupted by the sound of Will's laughter as he and Tina came back into the living room. Her father sighed heavily and sank into a faded recliner saying, "Well Heath, if this ain't the best thing since sliced bread I don't know what is! Who'da ever thought I'd be bringin' home a little Picasso 5 months ago, huh?"

"Oh Heath's gonna be bigger than Picasso, dad," Cat smiled, then said in a playfully severe tone, "If I can just convince him to enter this competition, that is!"

At this Will turned to Heath, saying, "Now look, son, I understand all this may be a little hard for you to handle right now, but I just want you to think about everythin' that's at stake here; we're talking about college--somethin no one around here has ever even had a chance at gettin to. You got somethin you can be proud of, Heath, and if it's what you want, then whatever it takes, I'm gonna do my best to make sure you can win that prize. Anything you need--paper, paint, brushes, whatever you artists use--I'm gonna get for you first thing in the morning. You can use the time that you normally use for workin in The Heights to work on your painting, all right?"

It was here that Tina, who'd be quiet while standing up against the wall all this time finally spoke up, "And just how do you figure all of this is going to happen, Will? Do you think the money for all of the 'paper, paint, brushes, and whatever artists use' is just going to appear out of thin air?"

Will sighed, "Now Tina, listen--"

But Tina wouldn't be silenced, "No! You think you can just give this boy everything we have all for a competition there's no possible way he can win, anyway? Well, I'm putting my foot down this time, Will! I'm saying no!"

Cat rolled her eyes and groaned, "C'mon mom, don't start this now--"

She spun around on her, "And don't you think you can talk to me like that, Catherine Ernshawl! Both you and your father are going to hear me out this time!" Turning back to her husband, Tina said, "There's not going to be any money for him, Will, not a dime of it is going to go to him or any other castoff children you bring into this house, do you understand me?"

"Tina just hear me out--"

"I'm pregnant!"

There was a long, agonizing silence as Tina caught her breath and Will's face slowly cracked. Cat sat stiffly on the sofa, holding her breath as long as she dared.

"I'm pregnant Will," her mother whispered brokenly, "Everything we've wanted for so long- what we thought would never happen… well it's happened now. I'm pregnant!"

Will sank down into the high back chair, leaning forward on his knees as he hung his head down, "How long have you known?" he croaked at last.

Cat exchanged a quick glance with her mother before she answered haltingly, "Three months… I've been sure for two."

He looked up at her, "Three months?! Three months, and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't know how, Will," she said despairingly, "Everything's been upside down and inside out in this house for months now and I just didn't know how… And, and we've had so many disappointments before, that I didn't want to get my hopes up in case-" she broke off and covered her face with her hands.

Will stood to his feet and went to her, but instead of him assuredly taking her into his arms as Cat had seen him do countless times before, he seemed awkward and uncertain. All the same, he looked over at her and nodded to the door.

Knowing the drill, Cat nudged Heath in the side with her elbow and the two of them quickly shuffled out and into the front yard of the house, beginning to walk across the fields toward her tree.

When they'd gone a considerable distance, Cat broke the silence at last, "This is gonna be a disaster… I can just feel it."

"She doesn't have to die, Cat." Heath said, "She may be fine."

But Cat shook her head, "Even if she does, it won't matter. It's still gonna be trouble. Did you see the look on my dad's face? He's not happy about her being pregnant. He doesn't want her to be."

"But I thought you said he wanted more babies."

"He did… until he brought you home. Now, he doesn't need anymore. But Mom's determined… she's got something to prove; to him and all the rest of us."

"She really hates me, doesn't she?" he asked calmly, and Cat was surprised at the ease with which he said it. Shaking her head with a sigh, she answered,

"It isn't you, Heath, it's what you did in coming here. She's jealous of the attention you get from my Dad, for her and for Henry. You know that he's her favorite. And now, you're Dad's. That's all it is."

But Heath shook his head, "No… it's me. I know it. She really hates me Cat. Me. Not what I did. She thought getting pregnant would make your dad send me back to where I came from."

Cat was silent for a moment, then replied softly, 'It doesn't matter. Cause Dad is never going to do that. I know him. He loves you. And that means you aren't leaving, right?"

Heath looked over at her and smiled faintly, taking up her hand and weaving his fingers in between hers before pressing a light kiss to the back of it,

"Yeah," he answered, "That's right… I'm not going anywhere."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8: All His Fault

_A/N: This chapter's shorter than my other ones have been in the past, but not to worry. After this one, things are going to start to really go into motion. I have some really intense stuff planned for the future plot, so hang on tight! Thank you to my lovely reviewers, and pleeeease keep me going with your comments. You have no idea how much I appreciate them.--Jess_

**Chapter Eight: All His Fault**

In spite of her mother's outburst and announcement, Cat's dad did everything that was humanly possible to see that Heath had everything he might need to win the competition. That same weekend, he drove Heath and Cat, who invited herself along, into the nearest city and spent the entire day buying art materials for his room at home. And they weren't the cheap, amateurish supplies usually used in schools either. Will went to professional studios and shops and spent time talking with the owners about what were the very best products to buy. Heath himself showed some knowledge of what he would need, and for the most part was able to pick out his own things. Canvases, oil paints, palettes, brushes of all kinds; the truck bed quickly began to fill with the purchases that were not only fancy, but expensive.

"Dad, don't you think we're spending a little too much money here?" Cat asked when they were checking out at the fifth store. She was looking at the cash register LCD display, which was showing a figure well into the hundreds, "I mean come on: Mom is gonna flip when she sees all this stuff-"

"She isn't gonna see it, Cat." Her dad said steadily, "All this is going into Heath's room, which isn't even apart of the house. Side's, this is necessary if we want him to win that contest. I thought _you'd_ understand at least." His voice was defensive.

"Still sir," Heath said, "It isn't that important. The chances that I'll win aren't all that big. I don't expect you to waste all this money just because-"

"Now don't go thinking that way Heath!" Will said, sounding hurt, "You got just as much chance of winnin as anybody else does. Nothin I could ever do for you would be a waste to me- you hear, nothing! Just you focus on winnin that contest, don't you be worryin' about anything else. Leave it to me, I know what I'm doin'."

As they walked back to the car and loaded the truck bed, he suddenly said, "I'd do anything for you two- you know that don't you? Anything."

Cat exchanged glances with Heath, then answered, "Yeah Dad, we know that."

"Nothing's too much for you two to me." he said, almost to himself, "You're everything I care about in this world now. You and The Heights."

_What about Mom? What about Henry? _Cat thought silently to herself, but stayed silent.

Will sat down on the edge of the truck bumper and faced the two of them. Reaching out to Cat, he smoothed back her hair and stroked her cheek, "You're my little girl, Cat. You always will be. Though God knows you run me ragged- you're my little girl." Turning to Heath, his voice softened and Cat could hear the emotion in it, "And you… you're my son. You hear me, Heath?"

Heath nodded, "Yeah sir, I hear you."

"My _son_." he repeated emphatically, "And nothing's ever gonna change that. Nothing and nobody." Putting his hands behind both of their necks, Will drew Cat and Heath to him close and hugged them tight, "I love you two." he whispered, "You hear me? I love you."

From over his shoulders, Cat and Heath exchanged glances with one another again, Cat's questioning, Heath's with no reply to give her. Hugging her dad back, Cat answered honestly, "We love you too, Dad… we love you too."

* * *

In the days that followed, Heath spent the bulk of his free time shut up in his bedroom over The Heights, working and experimenting for possible entries for the competition. Strangely enough, he didn't want Cat in the room while he worked, and asked that she give him privacy whenever he was there. Cat was confused and curious, but there was no getting around her Dad, who saw to it that Heath got his privacy and secrecy. He wouldn't tell anyone what he was doing, or what he was planning for his entry. He made no mention of his progress, or if he was even working at all. Late at night though, Cat would part the curtain in her window and look across the small gap between her and Heath's room, and see the glow of a light behind the blinds, telling her that he was still awake.

As she had predicted, her mother had been furious when they returned from the stores that day. She'd been standing on the veranda of the porch in her robe and slippers, arms crossed but head held high as she watched them unload the truck of all the supplies. Cat had seen her parents' eyes meet for a brief moment and she knew that all that would be said between them, was being said in that gaze. But her Dad only went on into the shop, calling Heath after him, while her mother turned and went back into the house. They hadn't had a decent conversation since that day. Cat didn't even think they slept in the same bed anymore, as she heard footsteps downstairs more and more often in the middle of the night. Her mother was cool and stiff with her father, speaking only when it was absolutely necessary. Whenever he addressed her, he made it sound as though he were speaking universally, never even saying her name. They didn't kiss each other in the morning before Will went out to the shop like they used to. Her mother didn't hum and sing anymore. Now, she was nauseous most of the time, her eyes having darkened shadows and sometimes red rings beneath them. Her belly gradually began to round, but she herself lost weight. Will gained weight in the face and belly, and his eyes took on that glazed, bloodshot look that was only found in heavy drinkers. But he never seemed drunk; only a little tired, and sad. He adored Heath as always, joked and chided Cat as usual.

And Henry was Henry.

"It's all His fault you know," he said to her one night when Heath was in his room and the two of them were doing lawn chores, a rare activity for them both. "Mom and Dad. All this is happening because He came."

There was no doubt in Cat's mind who the 'He' was, but she only continued yanking the weeds out of the ground, throwing them this way and that. She'd become so used to these comments of her brother's that she stopped paying attention to them mostly.

"Mom's hurting so bad Cat," he said, and his voice had changed. It was rough and gravelly, and she knew what he was feeling even if he didn't allow it to show in his face. "And that son of a bitch doesn't even care. He's so wrapped up in that little bastard he won't even-"

"Mom and Dad have their own issues, Henry." she said briskly, "They don't have anything to do with us."

Henry sneered at her, "The hell they don't, Cat. You know that it was never like this before He came. Things were alright then, _we_ were alright then-"

"Oh, so you're counting yourself as apart of this family now?" she asked sarcastically, "Now you're upset cause Dad doesn't pay attention to your detention slips and suspensions now? You're mad that he doesn't care anymore that you're going to fail the twelfth grade?"

Henry's voice suddenly became very hostile, "I'm _not_ going to fail it, Cat!"

She laughed, "Yeah sure, we've heard that one before!"

"What the hell is with you anyway?" he snapped, "What's your problem?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I mean, what's gotten into you lately Cat? What is it with you and that little prick? Why are you always with him, playing with him, hanging with him at school? What's his hold over you?"

Cat whirled on him angrily, "Nobody's got a hold on me Henry, you got that? Nobody! I hang out with Heath because I like him. We're friends."

Henry snorted, standing up and dusting off his jeans. His shadow fell over her, blocking the sun, "_Friends_… Well let me tell you something Cat, that's all you two better be, you got that? Tell Heath that you better stay friends- for his sake."

She craned her neck to look up at him, but the light from the sun made his face dark and unreadable, "And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

He snorted again and she could hear the wry smile in his voice, "You figure it out. Or better yet, why don't you ask Heath? _He_ knows."


	9. Chapter 9: Friends and Spirits

_A/N: Okay, yet another chapter being added on. Another one will actually be added VERY soon. It got written with this one actually, but I ended up breaking them apart because of longevity. The next one will also be a transition for the plot to begin to gain some more 'action, and steer it towards a darker direction. Still, I felt this one was necessary for a part of the plot that's much further down the road. Thank you so VERY much to all who review my story. You are very much appreciated by yours truly. Gotta throw a disclaimer in here since it's been a few chapters since I've done so: I don't own Wuthering Heights or any of the characters. They belong to Emily Bronte. This is just my rendition of a beautiful love story. So please don't sue me. R/R!-Jess_

**Chapter Nine: Friends and Spirits**

"Heath, we're friends aren't we?"

Heath looked up from his sketchpad and Cat could tell that he heard the abruptness in her voice, saw the discomfort in her face.

They were sitting in her favorite tree, Cat a branch higher than Heath. He was sketching out a view of the house on the horizon as a possible picture for his oil painting. She had wanted to go with him, but had been silent almost the entire evening, when usually she was talkative and animated. What Henry had said earlier that week puzzled her in a way that she didn't even understand. _Friends…Friends…Friends… _Over and over it went over in her mind, and now she found that she couldn't keep silent about it anymore.

Tilting his head to the side, Heath asked, "Why would you ask that?"

"Because!" Cat sputtered impatiently, "You've been here for almost half a year and we spend so much time together and we haven't really verified what you and I really are! Are we brother and sister, are we friends, what? I just thought you would care about something like that."

Heath set down the sketchpad and lifted himself up to her branch, swinging his legs on either side of it so that he faced her, "What's happened?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing's happened," Cat lied, looking away, "I just wondered what I really am to you-"

"You're Cat to me." He said simply, "Does that answer your question?"

"But what are _we_?" she asked, frustrated, "What's up with us, Heath? Why do people think it's weird for us to be hang out toge-"

"People meaning your brother?" he asked stonily, "Don't listen to anything he says: it's all bullshit."

Cat stared at him in surprise. It was the first time she'd heard him curse, and his jade eyes seemed seething with anger all of a sudden. Then his expression changed and he looked normal again. Brushing back her hair, Heath murmured calmly, "You and me… we can be whatever we want to be, wherever we want to be, however we want to be it. Nothing else matters. Nobody else matters. Just what we want. Do you want us to be friends? Do you want us to be together?"

"Well yeah," Cat began.

"Then that's what we are." Heath said. "Period. Okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, ok."

He used his index finger to tilt her chin up, "Good. Now smile for me."

She smiled somewhat sheepishly and he grinned back at her, "Come here," Wrapping his arms around her waist, Heath pulled her to him and held her in a firm embrace, "Nothing's strong enough to break us apart Cat." he said softly, his fingers playing on her spinal cord "We could always be like this…forever."

Cat gave a small chuckle, "Not forever, Heath!"

"Why not?"

"Because things always change."

"Uh-uh." he said confidently, "Not us. Not this."

"But what about when we grow up?"

"We can still be together."

Cat smiled and pulled away, "Not unless you mind moving away from here, we can't! I told you Heath, I'm leaving here the first chance I get!"

"You'd come back." he replied logically, "You couldn't stay away long."

Skeptical, Cat raised an eyebrow and asked, "Oh yeah? Just how do you figure that?"

"I already told you before; because I _know_ you Cat. I _know _you'd come back. For all your talk about how much you hate this place, you can't live without it. Everything about your home has made you who you are, so trying to forget about it would be like trying to forget yourself."

She shrugged, "Well maybe I do wanna forget myself, Heath, maybe I do just wanna forget everything I am now and make up a brand new identity." A mischievous grin spread across Cat's face as she continued, "What if one day you woke up and I was gone, gone off to New York or Hollywood, and the next time you saw me I was on a billboard or magazine cover?" She laughed, "I'll have blonde hair and blue eyes then--you won't even recognize me!"

But Heath didn't find it very funny. His face having suddenly turned gravely serious, he said, "I'd hunt you down and bring you back here."

"Yeah, but I'll have swarms of bodyguards around me," She said, "They'd make sure no one got in five feet of me!"

"They couldn't keep me away from you."

Cat rolled her eyes with a smile, "The way you talk Heath! I swear I think that I'll never really know you sometimes!"

"You know me enough."

Cat studied him for a moment of silence, then spoke the first thought that came into her mind, "Heath… where'd you come from?"

Heath's eyebrows rose slightly and she could tell the question was unexpected. He shrugged after a minute, "No place."

"Everyone comes from someplace," Cat said, insisting, "Tell me."

"I don't remember."

She nudged him in the side, "Liar! You do so- tell me!"

He shook his head calmly, "No."

"Why?"

"Just because. You don't want to know. I don't want you to know."

"Was it bad?" she asked.

Heath was looking out in the distance, his eyes had a faraway look to them and Cat could tell that wherever he had come from, he was thinking about it now. He didn't answer her question.

"What about your parents? Your mom, your dad; do you have any brothers or sisters? Are you from around here? C'mon, tell me something!" Her voice rose in irritation the more he kept silent.

Heath lowered himself back down to his branch and leaned against the trunk of the tree, taking back up his sketchpad, "I was right from the beginning," he said, "You talk way too much."

Wrapping her legs around the branch of the tree, Cat lowered herself back so that she was hanging upside down beside him, her hair hanging down in the air, "If you just tell me one thing, I promise that I'll never ask you about your past again."

He looked up at her, "What's that?"

"What's your mom's name?"

Heath's gaze flickered and he looked away from her. He was silent for so long that Cat thought he wouldn't answer, but then she heard him murmur,

"Catherine… that's her name. Catherine."

Cat paused, surprised and subdued. "Am I like her?" she asked.

Heath gave a small smile and shook his head, "No more questions, remember? Forget about it- she doesn't matter anymore."

Cat came down to his branch, scooting next to him. She smiled, "I think you're a runaway prince!" she said playfully.

Heath raised his eyebrow at her, "What?"

"Mmmhm, a prince. You got tired of your home, and your strict, stiff parents, and you wanted to see what it was like to live normally. So you ran away, and found us." She placed her hands on his shoulder and rested her chin against them, "What do you think?" she asked.

He laughed, "I think you have a very creative imagination."

"It could be true!" she retorted, "If you want it to be, why can't it be true? I do it all the time."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that I came from another place, another family. Create a whole other past and history. It makes being here easier for me sometimes. It's fun. Why don't you try it?"

He sighed with a smile, "What for?"

"If you don't want to remember or tell me where you really came from, you can make it become something else. Go on!"

He paused, leaning back against the tree. "Okay...I was…" he began softly, "I was born a bird-"

"_What_?" she asked incredulously, but he shushed her, "A magic bird. I could fly away from whatever I was afraid of…and go wherever I wanted to go. My parents were the same way. We were all...magic. When they died, they sent their spirits into the wind- and I can feel them whenever it blows…I hear their voices…they live forever in it. In the wind…"

Cat gave a small, incredulous laugh, "And that's the best you can come up with? Heath, none of that is even possible!"

"Why not?" he asked calmly. "If I want it to be- why not?"

"Because there's a difference between real life and imaginary things. There's no such thing as magic- it's all pretend."

"How do you know that?"

"I just…do. If I can't touch it, or see it, why should I believe in it?"

He smiled wryly, "If I want it to be, then why can't it be true?"

Cat laughed when she realized that she'd been caught in her own words, "Very slick!" she retorted, "But I still don't believe you!"

She heard the smile in his voice as he said, "All right, I'll just have to prove it to you then."

"How are you going to do that?" Cat asked, still skeptical.

"Close your eyes." He commanded. When she did, Heath said, "I'll send our spirits into this tree."

"You'll _what_? Heath there's no such thing as a spirit or soul-"

"You don't know that," he said, "C'mon, if you don't want to believe in it, then there's no harm in doing this, is there? Close your eyes." She sighed heavily, but obeyed. She felt his hands close down around her waist gently, "Turn your body this way, into me." She slid back so his chest was against her spine. Sliding his hands down to hers and intertwining them together tightly, Heath put his face against Cat's so that they were cheek to cheek, then whispered, "Now…be still, be quiet. In your mind, see every part of the tree, down to the veins in it's leaves…touch them…smell them…taste them. Next see you and me…just us, Cat…just _us_. That's it…there you go…"

For some reason, as Heath was speaking, Cat began to feel a strange tingling down her spine, in her belly. It was unlike anything she'd felt before, it almost felt as if she was…well, floating in a way. "I feel," she said softly, "I feel…_weird_-"

"Shh…just relax," he said softly. His breath was warm in her ear, "Just wait…" A long moment of silence passed, before he whispered,

"All right…" In the moment of silence, she vaguely felt Heath's hands move from her hands up to her waist, his touch firm and warm through her clothes. "_Now_." As soon as the word passed through his lips, Cat felt him bring her body back against his tightly, so tight that for a moment she could hardly breathe. But for some reason it didn't matter, for as soon as he did, Cat felt an electrifying sensation go through her, making her gasp aloud in shock. Suddenly the tree beneath them didn't seem to be beneath them any more, it seemed to be _part_ of them. Her and Heath's bodies were so close together it was almost impossible for her to distinguish where they were parted.

It was frightening…frightening, but amazing at the same time.

When at last she let out a long breath, Cat realized that in the moment Heath had brought her to him, she'd clenched his hands that were on her waist just as tightly. She also realized that they were still there. Looking at him from out of the corner of her eye, she stammered, "D-did it work?"

Opening his eyes to look at her, he replied, "If it did…then the tree'll talk to us…send us a sign."

"Talk to us? How's it going to--"

"Shhh…" He whispered. "Just listen."

The two were silent for a long moment before at last they heard a soft mewing sound from behind them. Turning around, they saw a little white cat lounging on a branch nearby them, meowing and purring faintly.

Cat's jaw dropped in shock, a laugh escaping her throat as she asked, "How did you _do_ that?"

Heath smiled, "I told you- if I want it to be, then why shouldn't it be true? Your spirit's in the tree now."

"Then where's yours?"

"It's like I said before, whereever you are, I am too."

She stared at him, her eyes searching the calm depths of his bottomless green eyes, "Are you magic?" she asked softly.

He shrugged, "If you want me to be."

Heath traced the outline of her jaw, then chucked her under the chin, then turned and inched across the branch cautiously toward the white cat, his hands poised readily. She was seemingly oblivious, lazily flicking her tail back and forth in the air. Heath waited a moment, then lashed his hands out quickly. The cat tried to dart away, but he was quicker and caught her in his grasp tightly. Though the feline uttered a low howl, she didn't try to scratch or wrest herself free and as he began to gently stroke her coat, she quickly became obliging. Gathering the cat in the crook of his arm, Heath scooted back across the branch beside Cat and held it out to her, "A cat for Cat," he said, "Take her."

Cat grinned delightedly and held the cat up in the air, "She's so pretty!" she exclaimed, "What do you think we should call her?"

"Whatever you want," he replied, "She's yours now."

"She's _ours_," Cat corrected him, "She came from our tree, so she belongs to both of us…. Chrissy. I had a turtle named that once. We'll call her Chrissy."

Heath snickered amusingly, "A turtle?"

Cat elbowed him roughly, "Oh shut up! I loved that turtle."

"What happened to it?"

She made a face, "Henry's pit bull got to it, that's what. Dad got rid of him the next day but it didn't help. I was so angry. We haven't had any pets here since then."

"Well you have one now," Heath said, putting his arm around her shoulders, "And I'll make sure she's safe for you."

Cat smiled and leaned her head into the crook of his neck, stroking Chrissy's fur, "She's just perfect, isn't she?"

She felt his lips lightly graze the top of her head and his voice murmur, "Yeah… just like you."

Cat heard the tone in his voice and holding Chrissy close, jumped down from the tree branch, landing solidly on her feet. Looking back up at Heath, she beckoned with her free hand, "C'mon, let's go show Dad!" she called up, "Race ya there!"

And without waiting to see if he would come, Cat took off across the open field. _I wonder if there really is such a thing as a spirit,_ she thought, _If there isn't- then what just happened back there?_


	10. Chapter 10: Everything Has A Price

_A/N: Hey guys! Told you an update would be coming soon- and this one really, really is where things start getting intense, I SWEAR. You'll see what I mean when you finish up with it. Thank you so much for reading/reviewing, I love you to the moon for it!-- Jess  
_

**Chapter Ten: Everything Has a Price**

Cat rifled through the mail idly, walking down the hall to the living room where all the rest of her family and Heath was in the living room. Chrissy walked at her heels, her collar tinkling softly. She'd become Cat's shadow ever since Heath had found the cat, and was never very far from her side.

Will was leaned back in his recliner watching the television. Tina was settled somewhat stiffly in her own chair, fanning herself with a newspaper. Her free hand held her belly protectively and she was softly humming under her breath. Heath was sitting in the loveseat in the corner, working in his sketchpad. For the first time in what seemed like months, Henry was at home for the night. He was sprawled across the other sofa, head in his hand as he too watched the blaring television. His gaze was bored and disinterested, but as Cat entered the room, his expression became more alert.

Will sighed as he listened to the news anchor's voice,

"And in news from around the world, relations between Iraq and Kuwait are still worsening as Iraqi President Saddam Hussein calls The UAE and Kuwait's overproduction of oil, an "economic warfare" against his country. Rumors are already circulating of a war in the region, and even more speculated, is the eventual involvement of the United Nations as-"

"Damn world just keeps getting worse and worse," Will said to no one in particular, "And that ass of a Bush's got the American people fooled about what his real interest in that desert Hell Hole's all about! Oil, that's what! Nothin but cold, hard cash for him and his rich buddies!"

Plopping down beside Heath on the sofa, Cat began reading off the mail recipients, lightly tossing them to her family,

"Mom… Dad… Dad… Dad again… And Mom… me… Oh look, another comic book for Dennis the Menace!" she sarcastically exclaimed, tossing Henry his magazine subscription, "Final grades- let's see who got that A for history, Heath! And Henry, we know you failed, but what the heck? Might as well give a peek…"

"Give them here Cat." her mother said, 'Let's see them."

"Mom, Dad, there's something else from the school that's specifically addressed to you." she said, reluctantly handing over the grades, "Here."

Will and Tina split the mail between each other, and looked them over,

"Cat honey, I thought you said you would try and raise your Chemistry grade this semester." her mother said.

"I tried Mom, but those tests were a pain in the butt!" Cat replied irritably, "I got a C-, so what's the big deal?"

"The deal is that you didn't try your best Cat, which is all we ask of you. You'll have to do better next semester- it'll be your senior year. Don't mess it up."

Cat snickered, and nodded at Henry "Yeah, you mean like Butch Boy over there?"

'You just watch your mouth young lady, alright?" Tina said exasperatedly.

Will whistled triumphantly as he scanned Heath's report card, "Five A's and a B+! Good for you son- you're doin' your old man proud!"

Heath gave him a short smile in reply and went on with what he was dong. On the couch, Henry winced and Tina helplessly averted her eyes back to the next letter. After a moment of scanning it, she frowned slightly and murmured,

"Will… look at this."

Taking the letter from her, Will looked it over, reading it aloud slowly,

"You and your family are cordially invited to the graduation reception of the class of 1990, as your child makes his transition into adulthood by graduating from high school…" His voice trailed off as every eye in the room looked up in surprise, and gazed on Henry, who was staring at the ceiling stonily.

"Henry?" Will almost whispered, "You're… you're _graduating_?"

Henry sat up and folded his hands in his lap. There was an unreadable expression on his face as he replied, "Yeah Dad… I am."

Tina exhaled sharply and something like a laugh of relief escaped her lips, "Honey that's, that's wonderful!"

Cat stared, stupefied. She said the first words that came into her head, "But how?"

Henry glanced at her stiffly, "I stayed after for a few makeup sessions, got some help for my math exam. I really just needed to pass that class to have all my credits. It wasn't a big deal."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, "Makeup sessions? You? In what lifetime, Henry?"

His eyes narrowed at her, but before she could answer, her mother cut in abruptly, "That's enough Cat! Don't you talk to him like that. If he's graduating, he's graduating. He doesn't deserve your lip." Getting up awkwardly, she waddled over to the sofa and sat down next to him, taking up his hand. "Congratulations honey," she said earnestly, "You deserve this. You know your father and I never finished high school, and it makes us proud to see that we raised our kids to want to succeed in life before it's too late."

But Henry wasn't even looking at her. He was looking at his dad, who was still reading over the letter, as if trying to search for something.

Tina noticed, and raised her voice pointedly, "Will- We're _very _proud of him- aren't we?"

Cat looked between the two of them and understood. Her mother wasn't going to let her dad out of this one.

Getting up from his recliner, Will shuffled over to the sofa and though he didn't sit down, he stared at Henry for a long moment, before reaching out his hand to him, "You surprised me, son." he said quietly, "You surprised the hell outta me… and it makes me proud to say that you did."

Henry placed his hand in Will's and spoke so quietly that Cat had to strain to hear him, "It's why I did it Dad."

Pulling him to his feet, Will wrapped his arms around Henry in his bear embrace, and Cat saw the slow way that Henry shut his eyes as he hugged him back. It made her feel sad, in a confused, bewildered kind of way.

* * *

Something like the sound of a revving engine woke Cat up the next morning. Through her open window, she heard her dad's voice call out,

"Heath! Henry! Come on out here, you two! Wake up sleepyheads, I've got something for you."

The revving of the engines continued and though she tried to go back to bed, the noise-and her curiosity-got the best of Cat and she got up out of bed somewhat groggily, putting on her flannel, worn out robe and going over to her window. Her eyes popped, and a gasp escaped her mouth.

Her Dad was sitting on the seat of the vintage Indian Chief motorcycle that he had showed Heath in the magazine that night in the shop. It had been completely restored so that its gleam in the sun was nearly blinding. There was a broad grin on his face as he revved the engine. Beside him was the Harley Davidson motorcycle that she'd hungered after for so long, also shining like new.

Cat turned and raced out of her room and down the stairs. Tearing down the hallway, she flung open the door and jumped off the veranda, running over to where her dad was with the bikes.

"Oh my God, Dad!" she shrieked in delight, "I can't believe this!"

"Yeah, I don't really believe it myself," Will said, climbing off the bike and taking the key out of the ignition, "I must be crazy to be doin' this but-" he shrugged, "What the hell?"

"These are for me and Heath?" Cat asked, excitedly running her hands over the Harley.

But her Dad shook his head, "Nope. They're for Henry and Heath."

Cat's face fell, "_What_?!" she cried in horror.

Just then, the door to the auto shop opened, and Heath came outside, his hair still free from its ponytail and streaming across his shoulders. He too was still dressed in his pajama pants and top.

Coming to stand by Cat, Heath looked the bikes over curiously, as Will put his arm around him and gestured to the Indian Chief,

"Well? What do you think, Heath?"

Heath answered, "What, it's not for me?"

"Yeah," he answered happily, "All for you. For your work this year in school, the help you gave me in the Heights, the art competition, all of that. You deserve it."

"Dad, what about me?" Cat asked, aghast, "Why can't _I_ have the Harley?"

Will sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, "Because of your grades Cat. They just weren't good enough, and you know it. Then there's your smart mouthin' Ms. Demme: thought I forgot about it, didn't you? I can't keep letting' you slide on this stuff."

"And Henry deserves this bike?!" she was incredulous, "He slacks off for four years and just because he's going to graduate now, he gets a Harley?! Dad, this is so unfair!"

"There's no sense arguing' about something that's already done Caty," her Dad replied simply, "Now your mom and I already agreed about this, and I'm not budging on it. The Harley's for Henry."

Cat scoffed, "Mom. I should've known something like this would be all _her _idea!"

"Watch your mouth young lady," he said warningly, "That's your mother you're talking about."

"Don't I know it!" she said scathingly.

The door to the house opened and Henry came down the steps. Sauntering over to where they stood, he stared at the bikes pointedly, while Will pleasingly awaited his reaction. Strangely enough, Cat didn't think her brother looked happy or excited; there was a tight, strained look on his face, like he wanted to throw up.

"What is this?" he finally asked.

Their dad laughed, and slapped him on the back, "Well what do you think it is? It's your graduation present, son! Harley '89, brand new, runs like a charm."

"Dad…" Something like a croak escaped Henry's throat, "How much did this thing cost?"

Will shook his head dismissively, "Oh, you never mind about that- I could afford it. Sides: education's a priceless thing. Isn't that right Heath?"

But Henry broke in before he could answer, "Take it back, Dad."

Will gave a small laugh confusedly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean take it _back_." Henry said more forcefully, "You can't afford it."

"Oh sure I can, son," Will insisted, "Now both of you hop on so I can see you ride-"

"Take it back, dammit!" Henry shouted abruptly, "I don't want it, so just get rid of it! Throw it in a junkyard, hock the parts, I don't care, just get it out of my sight!" Whirling around, he stalked back to the house, ignoring Will's shouts after him.

As the door slammed, Cat's dad exhaled deeply and swept his hand through his hair in frustration, "I don't know what the hell is that boy's problem," he muttered, "I try- I try my damndest to do for him but he just won't-" Making a fist, he put it up against his forehead and sighed again. Looking up, he managed a tired smile for them, "Never mind. Go on Heath, hop on and let me see you ride the Chief."

Heath climbed onto the motorcycle and revving the engine, started it up and began smoothly riding in circles around the large yard, his hair blowing around him in the breeze.

Cat and her Dad watched him in silence, until Cat spoke up,

"Does this mean you'll take back the Harley, Dad?"

He shrugged, "I can't, Cat. That was the deal I made. I bought it thinking that a guy like your brother would jump at the chance for a bike but, I don't know what the hell's wrong with him… you know something I don't?"

She shook her head, "Not a clue…. How'd you get the Chief?"

"Called a few guys who called a few guys. Took forever to get here though. Still, for Heath, it's worth it."

She smiled as she watched Heath, "It's his kind of bike. He probably loves it already… wonder where he learned to ride."

"I think some things about Heath we'll never know." Her dad said, "He keeps a lot of things closer to the vest, I think he wants it that way."

"You don't think we should know?"

"Naw," he said shaking his head, "It don't matter any more. He's with us now. That's what counts."

Heath pulled up beside them and leaned one leg off the bike, "She's beautiful." he said, "Thanks sir. You didn't have to do this."

Will smiled, "I know that son, but I wanted to. The fact that you love it makes it all the better to me."

"C'mon," Heath said to Cat, "Let's go for a spin."

Cat glanced at her dad, who nodded somewhat hesitantly, "Just be careful, okay, Cat? No horsing around."

Rolling her eyes, Cat hopped on behind Heath excitedly, "Yeah, yeah I know Dad."

"And Heath, don't let her talk you into letting her drive it, understand? She don't know how, and she's not about to learn anytime soon."

"Don't worry sir," Heath said amusingly as Cat wrapped her arms securely around his waist, "I know how to handle her. She's safe with me."

Will nodded, "I know she is. Go, get out of here you two."

Heath revved the engine and the bike rode smoothly down the dirt road and back toward the forest. Cat held onto him and nestled her head on his shoulder as he sped up and the wind blew wildly into her face.

* * *

Cat stood on the porch of the house with Heath, watching her dad help her mother into the truck. The two of them were going into town to shop for the furniture of the baby's room. Cat and Heath were staying at home, and Henry was out with his friends. Cat couldn't believe how big her mother was getting. She was still only in her third trimester, but was already too large in the belly to even put on her own shoes. Excessive walking exhausted her, and she was always hot and hungry.

"You sure you don't want to come, Cat?" her dad asked as he shut the door behind Tina, "It could be fun pickin out the stuff for your baby brother."

"Or sister!" her mother corrected from the car. She had refused to know the sex of the baby, wanting to be surprised.

But Cat shook her head, "No thanks, Dad. You know I hate shopping. Besides, between you and Mom, I'm sure you'll come up with something. Just nothing in yellow, okay?"

He laughed, "Alright hon. We may be gone for a while, so you two keep an eye out on things for me alright?"

"Sure thing." she said breezily.

"And Cat," he said, "If Henry comes home with one of his punk friends, just try and-"

"I know the drill Dad." she interrupted, "Go on, go."

Waving briefly at the two of them, Will got into the truck and drove off down the road.

Cat waited until the lights had completely disappeared, then turned back to Heath, who leaned against one of the porch posts.

"Finally!" she exclaimed excitedly, "I thought they'd never leave! Now c'mon, let's go!" Taking his hand, she pulled him after her toward The Heights.

For the past three weeks, Cat had been trying to convince Heath to teach her to ride a motorcycle. She'd loved the thrill she got whenever she rode behind him on his, and lately they'd taken to just riding through fields instead of visiting the cave or tree at night. But Cat had wanted more than just to ride the motorcycle: she wanted to drive it herself. Heath had held out for a while, using her dad's order as an excuse to refuse, But like most things, she'd managed to change his mind and do as she wished, so long as it was secret.

Going over to the corner where Heath stored his bike, Cat hopped on it, grinning widely. He smiled as he approached her,

"Hold on there you," he said, "We gotta push her out first."

Once they had pushed the bike into the yard, Heath still hesitated, "You sure you wanna do this? Your dad'll be real upset if he finds out."

Cat shook her head dismissively, "Only for a little while. Besides, he doesn't have to know. Now c'mon, hurry up and teach me!"

Nodding begrudgingly, Heath gestured to the front seat, "Alright, alright. Get on." As Cat jumped on the bike, he leaned over her shoulder and guided her hands, showing her the parts, "This is gonna take some practice, so just be patient, okay? Now, this part," he guided her hand over one of the handlebars, "This is the clutch, pull it like that and the bike'll stop. This pedal over here, that's your gas. Your gas, oil, heat meters are all over here and-"

"Oh come on Heath!" she interrupted, "I've watched you drive it a hundred times, I know all this stuff. Just let me ride it!"

He sighed amusingly, "Alright, alright!" He climbed on behind her and placed his hands on the sides of her waist, "Give her the gas." he said in her ear, and Cat pushed on the pedal. For the first few minutes, it was fine, but eventually she began to push too hard, and they sped off too quickly. Cat shrieked in surprise, and Heath, caught off guard, came off the seat altogether, catching his footing as he stumbled to the ground.

Finally stopping the bike, Cat hopped off and leaned it against its stand, still somewhat shaky on her feet. Heath ran over to her, laughing gently,

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" she snapped back, embarrassed, "Let's just get on with it!"

But when they tried again, the bike wouldn't start. The engine revved, but wouldn't catch. Hopping off the motorcycle, Heath knelt down beside it, and started looking around at some of the parts.

"What's wrong?" Cat asked impatiently.

"Just a minute.." he murmured, "Okay… I just need to do a little bit of fooling around with her. Would you run back to The Heights and bring me back a few tools?"

He told her the tools he needed and Cat hurried back to the garage, anxious to start her instruction again.

When she got back to The Heights, she saw that Henry's motorcycle and Greg Beals' truck were parked in front of the house, and frowned. He was her least favorite of Henry's friends, and the one who had been in the most trouble. Cat hoped they would be in the house and she wouldn't have to even see them.

Going inside the garage, Cat went over to the tool wall and started looking for the tools Heath had asked her for. It took her a while as some were very similar and she wasn't used to using any, but eventually she managed to dig out the last one from a bin and was just about to leave when she heard a voice from behind her,

"How's it going, Kitty Cat?"

Whirling around in surprise, Cat narrowed her eyes at Greg who was standing in the door of the shop, a leering grin on his face. His eyes looked glazed and bloodshot, and even from five feet away Cat could smell the beer on him.

"It's Cat, you ignoramus," she retorted tersely. "Henry's not in here. Go look someplace else."

"What if I wasn't lookin' for Henry?" he said, his words slightly slurring together, "What if I was lookin' for you?"

Cat rose to her feet and tucked the tools under her arm, "In that case I'm getting out of here."

Greg chuckled, "Why don't you like me, Cat? Huh? We should be friends by now, seein' as you known me for half your life."

"Yeah, I really hit the jackpot there, didn't I?" she said sarcastically, "Move outta my way," She started toward the door, but he stepped in front of her quickly, still smiling gleefully. She tried to get around the other way but he darted in front of her again, now laughing under his breath. Cat squared her jaw in irritation as he slowly began walking into her so that she backed away towards the wall,

"Is this some kind of a game you and Henry are trying to pull?" she said impatiently, "Because if it is, the game's over."

Greg snorted amusingly, "Big brother's in the house Caty… it's just you and me now…. And the game's just beginning!"

"You're drunk and I'm leaving." Cat tried to push past him, but he grabbed hold of her arm and held fast. She tried to wrench free, but his grip was surprisingly strong. "Let go of me!" she snapped, "I mean it!" Her back collided against the wall and she tried to hang back from the smell of the alcohol on Greg's breath.

He used his other hand to trace up her arm and neck, his voice becoming more quiet, "Yeah… The game's just beginning… you in the mood for some fun, Cat… You wanna play with me?"

Cat slapped his hand away, "Are you insane? What the hell is up with you?"

Greg snickered, his gaze flickering down knowingly, "Why don't you find out?"

Cat stared at him for a long moment, then said slowly, "I want you to let me go. Now."

"But we haven't had any fun yet," he said playfully, "C'mon Cat, I know you. You're an Ernshawl, you all love to have fun don't you?"

"Where's Henry?" she asked, trying to stifle the rising paranoia in her stomach.

"Oh don't worry about him," Greg sneered, "I left him passed out on the couch with a bottle of vodka… that should leave you and me plenty of time to enjoy ourselves."

"Stop it!" she snapped, "I mean it now, let me out of here!"

But he was running his hand up and down her side now, his fingertips pressing harder, "You're really starting to fill out, you know that Cat?" he murmured, "No one would know it when we were kids, but you're filling out real nice. _So _nice…" his hand closed around her breast and squeezed hard.

Cat let out a sharp breath and wrenched her hand free from his grip, then slapped her palm against his cheek.

Greg laughed, but then grabbed hold of both of her arms and pinned her against the wall so hard that she cried out. "Don't act so surprised Kitty Cat," he breathed, his breath hot into her face, "I know you've given the Orphan Boy a quickie or two since he got here- I just want my share! That's not too much to ask is it? Huh?"

Cat struggled to get free, but his grip was like iron, "Get your dirty hands off me you asshole!" she ground out.

He only laughed again, "Or you'll what? Scream? Go ahead, call your little friend in here. I'll beat his ass, then let him watch… or maybe he's not such a bad guy… maybe he'll help me out here… hell, maybe we'll make this a threesome!"

"I'll tell my dad," she said through gritted teeth, "I'll tell my dad and then he'll kill you for this!"

Greg shook his head shortly, "Oh no you won't! See if you tell Daddy, then _I'll_ tell him why his son's really going to graduate all of a sudden!"

"What are you saying?" she asked warily.

He snorted, "How stupid can all of you get?! You think Henry really worked to graduate? He and I did a little bargaining a while ago… and I saved his ass. You see, though I may be a little wild, and even though I don't know how to pass a test, do a math problem or write a paper… I know my way around a computer-especially concerning school records. I just don't bother most of the time, because I don't care…" he laughed, "Oh, but Henry cared, let me tell you Cat, _he_ cared. He begged me to do it for him… that little wuss nearly cried telling me about how important it was to him to save face for your dad… all because of your little friend."

"Heath?" Cat breathed.

Greg nodded tightly, "Oh yeah.. He's crazy jealous of him you know. He said he'd give me anything if I helped him… and he's about to. I ain't about to put my ass on the line without getting some at the same time! And I've been waiting for it Cat… I've been waiting for you for a long time…"

He covered his mouth over hers and kissed her hard. Cat squirmed and groaned angrily, trying to free herself, but he was too strong and held her fast with one arm, while he used the other to push up her shirt.

Cat drew up her knee and rammed it into his crotch with all her might, pushing him away as he moaned in pain. He fell to the ground and she started to run. But Greg managed to grab her ankle and she too fell hard. He was angry now and yanked her to him by the leg, heaving himself on top of her. Drawing back his fist, he hit her across the temple and suddenly everything was blurry in her sight. Cat felt dizzy and lightheaded as the room began to spin and she tried to stay conscious,

"Help..." she cried weakly, "Heath…"

Greg laughed harshly as he tugged on her jeans, "Better to just be quiet Kitty Cat, just be quiet and relax… And it'll all be over soon…"


	11. Chapter 11:Punishments Fit the Crime

**Chapter Eleven: Punishments Fit the Crime  
**

Cat's vision was blurring now to the point where she only saw shadows, but as she stared up at Greg's face, she suddenly saw another one appear behind it, one with long, dark hair hanging in the air. The face belonged to a body and she could only make out arms holding something long and metal over Greg's head. In the next moment, she heard a sound, like a dull thud, then Greg moaning, and falling down to the side, his body slipping off of hers.

Cat saw the shadow bend down over her and whimpered again, "Help… God help me…"

Arms pulled her body up and hugged her close to a chest that smelled of earth and the outdoors. Rough but warm hands stroked her face, and a voice whispered in her ear,

"It's alright, Cat… It's alright… I'm here."

"H-Heath.." she whispered faintly, as her vision blurred even more, "Is it-"

"Shh," he said, "It's ok… it's ok now…"

The last thing Cat was conscious of was the feel of soft, but familiar fingers brushing across her cheek. Then everything was darkness…

* * *

Cat started awake, then moaned and leaned back at the sharp throb on the side of her head.

"Just relax Cat," Heath's voice was calm and soothingly familiar and she felt his hand smooth back her hair. "Relax, ok?"

Her vision began to clear and she made out his face leaning over her. She was lying in her own bed while Heath sat on the edge.

"Heath…" she murmured, "God… my head…"

"I know," he said quietly, "I know it hurts. He hit you pretty hard." His eyes were hard and glistened like emeralds.

She frowned, "He? Who…." she paused, trying to remember, then nodded, "Greg…he wanted to… he tried to-"

"Yeah, I know. But he didn't. He's gone now. And he won't ever come back here- you hear me, Cat? Never."

Cat closed her eyes, "What did you do, kill him?"

"No, I didn't kill him." Heath replied.

"Damn," she murmured, "You should have killed him. That's what I would have done."

"I will if you want me to." he said calmly.

Cat laughed softly, and shook her head, grasping his hand, "No. Not today. Just stay with me for now, okay?"

They were quiet for a while, then Cat shook her head again, "So stupid."

"What?" Heath asked.

"Why this all happened," she said, "It was all Henry's fault- like everything else."

"What do you mean?" he said and Cat noticed the queer change in his voice; it was sharper and alert.

"He wanted Greg to hack him into the school computer system. And Greg wanted me… it was a tradeoff. He's been lying to everyone, Heath. He's not supposed to graduate. He just wanted to make Dad like him more than you."

Heath exhaled sharply, and his eyes widened, "A tradeoff? Is that what he called it? A trade-" he broke off abruptly and stood up from the bed, striding quickly out of the room. Cat frowned and called after him, but he kept going. Getting up off the bed, she scampered into the hallway and down the stairs, looking around for Heath. He came out of the kitchen with a tall glass of water and made for the living room. Cat grabbed hold of his arm, "Heath what are you-" she began, but he shook her off and kept going, striding over to where Henry was still sprawled out on the couch. Heath drew his hand back, then hurled the glass of icy water smack into Henry's face.

Henry jolted up in the air, sputtering and choking, while Cat stared aghast,

"What are you doing?" she cried. But Heath didn't answer, throwing the glass at Henry's head. It cracked, and bounced off his forehead and he yelled out in pain, squinting through the water at them. When he saw Heath, his face twisted into a scowl, "What the-?!"

Heath pounced on the couch and yanked Henry up by the shirt. "You _bastard_!" he growled, and drawing back his fist, smashed it against Henry's jaw.

Blood spurted on her brother's lips, and a tooth spewed out into the air. Cat grabbed hold of Heath's shirt and tried to drag him away, "Heath stop it!" she yelled, "Stop!" But Heath seemed to not even hear her, pelting Henry with blow after blow. Henry had been caught off guard and was unable to protect himself against the first few blows. But eventually, his own temper strengthened him and he hurled himself off of the couch and into Heath, who fell backward. Cat was thrown off of Heath in the process, and stumbled back into one of her mother's favorite vases, shattering it on the floor. She watched in horror as she watched Heath and Henry roll back and forth on the floor, hammering each other with their fists. Blood was running down both of their faces now and there was no indication of them stopping at all.

Just then, she whirled her head around at the sound in the hallway. The front door was opening. Her parents were home.

Jumping to her feet, Cat bounded down the hall and nearly ran into Dad headfirst,

"Whoa there Cat-" he began pleasantly, then stopped short when he saw her face and touched her temple, "Cat honey, what happened to your-"

"Dad, come quick!" she cried, "Come on before they kill each other!"

From behind him, her mother frowned, "Wha-" Then she looked in the direction of the living room and listened, then gasped, "Will!"

But he was already quickly striding down the hall, Cat fast on his heels. When he saw Heath and Henry still pummeling each other on the floor he went straight to Henry, who was sitting on top of Heath. With one yank at his arm, Will had wrenched him up, and pulled his arms behind his back to keep him from swinging as Henry, flailed about in his grip, "Let go of me!" he growled out again and again, "Let go of me, dammit!"

Cat fought to keep Heath back, which was easier, as his temper was cooler and more controlled than Henry's. He was breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat and blood from his face.

Tina waddled into the room, her eyes widening in horror when she saw the two boys and the state of her living room, "Oh my God!" she cried, then her eyes fell on Heath and narrowed, "What have you _done_ to him?!" she demanded.

Heath didn't answer, and Will cut in, "I want to know what the hell is going on here _now_! And somebody better have a damn good explanation for me!"

Cat looked back and forth between Heath and Henry but for a long moment neither said anything, then Heath sneered,

"Tell them you bastard! Tell them what you let that son of a bitch Beals try to do to Cat! Tell them!"

"Beal? Greg Beals?" Will asked confusedly, "What does he have to do with Cat? What happened?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Henry spat back.

"No? Tell them about the deal you made with him!" Heath shouted "Tell them _he _was what made you pass, and not some damn makeup sessions!"

_"What?!"_

_"What?!"_

Both of Cat's parents exclaimed at once, while something in Henry's face cracked, then hardened like granite.

"Tell them about the computer, Henry," Heath continued, "Didn't you tell Beals you'd give him anything just so you could graduate from high school?!"

Henry glared at him and Cat didn't think she'd ever seen so much hatred and anger in her brother's face.

Meanwhile, Will broke in impatiently, "Well somebody damn well better tell me something! Henry! Look at me! Is it true? Is it?" Henry wouldn't look at him, only continuing to glare wildly at Heath. Shaking his head slowly, he murmured,

"Screw you, you bastard!"

Heath was unscathed, shaking his head with a tight smile. Something like a choked laugh escaped his lips, "Screw _me_?! Why don't you tell them what you told Beals _he_ could do to Cat! Tell them what he was trying to do when you were passed out in here lying in a pool of your own spit!"

"Henry what is he saying?!" Tina asked shakily. A cold fear had entered her eyes and she glanced back at Cat continually as if for some kind of explanation.

But Cat had retreated back into a corner of the room, her arms hugging herself tightly. She had wanted her parents to know what had happened earlier when she'd regained consciousness, but now she wasn't so sure that she did anymore. There was something in the way that Henry's face seemed to be crumbling that disturbed her. He didn't looked ashamed or angry anymore; now there was what looked like dread and shock in his eyes, and suddenly the thought occurred to her that perhaps he hadn't even known about what Greg had done to her.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" he whispered hoarsely.

Heath snorted disgustedly, "No? Well, why don't you let me tell them for you: you want me to tell you how you let your friend put his dirty hands on your sister's breasts?"

"Heath-" Cat croaked out weakly, but he only kept going,

"Tell them how he knocked her out and threw her on the ground-"

"Heath-"

"Tugged down her jeans and tried to hold her still so he could _jam_ himself inside of her?"

"_Heath_!" she cried, her voice cracking. He did stop, but only for a moment, pausing to catch his breath. Cat looked at Henry and saw that his face was twisted into a dark red scowl as tears glistened in his eyes and knew instantly; he hadn't known about Greg's intentions. He hadn't known at all.

It took everything she had in her to dare to look at her Dad's face, and she almost wished that she hadn't.

Will's complexion had gone ashen and he was staring fixedly ahead at nothing. His fists were clenched at his sides, but trembled ever so slightly. His expression was inscrutable but unmistakable at the same time and Cat had never seen it on his face before.

"_That's_ what happened _Henry_!" Heath said sardonically, "That's what you did just to try to make your dad think you weren't the stupid son of a bitch you really are!"

"_No_!" Tina shrieked, "No!" she repeated forcefully, wiping her eyes, "It's not true. You're lying. You're nothing but a liar. A scheming, dirty liar. Tell him Henry: tell him it's all a lie. Tell him you would never let that happen… _tell him_!"

Henry didn't answer, his chin trembling.

Will's rumbling voice came softly, choked with pain, "Is it true?" he asked simply.

Cat held her breath and glanced back at Henry, whose mouth was forming words that wouldn't come.

"Henry," Will said firmly, "Is…it…true?"

Henry bit his lip, hard. Then blinked once, allowing two tears to fall down his cheeks. He whispered so quietly, Cat almost didn't hear him, "I didn't mean for it to happen Dad!"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Will's face twisted in pain and without another word he lunged at Henry and seized him by the shirt with his fists, slamming him up against the wall.

"Will, what are you doing?!" Tina sobbed as he lifted his son clear of the ground. Henry made no move to fight back, as he too cried brokenly. Will lifted him clear of the ground and shook him frantically, "Are you crazy?!" he asked hoarsely, "Are you out of your mind?!"

"I didn't know, Dad!" Henry said over and over again through his tears, "I swear to God I didn't know!"

"You were going to let your sister get _raped_ just to impress me?!" Will thundered, "You sick little-" Drawing back his hand he slapped Henry across the face once, and blood began pouring down from his nose again. But he was insatiable, muttering, "I could-" Closing his hands around Henry's neck he began to squeeze hard.

Tina and Cat rushed forward, desperately tugging at Will's arms, trying to pry his hands free,

"Will! Will he's your only son!" Tina screeched.

"Dad, stop or you'll kill him!" Cat pleaded. Her heart was hammering as she saw Henry's face turn blue as his eyes bugged from their sockets.

And suddenly, Will did stop. Slowly opening his hands, Will stepped back from Henry, letting him drop down to the floor with a thud, gasping and wheezing for breath as Tina lamely attempted to crouch down beside him with the bulk of her belly. She desperately stroked back his hair and urged him to breath, just breathe.

Cat stared at her dad as he stared down at Henry, panting heavily. Raising a pointed finger, he spoke calmly and clearly at,

"If you ever… do anything… to hurt this family again… I swear on everything that I love… that I will kill you… do you hear me, boy? Son or no, I will strangle you dead with my bare hands!"

"Will!" Tina breathed, mortified.

Henry stared back at him sorrowfully, "Dad, it wasn't all my fault! Greg went behind my back, he-"

"I _don't_," Will cut in abruptly, his eyes squeezed shut, "Want to hear a _sound_ out of you. Not _one_ sound. Don't you speak to me boy, don't come near me, don't you even look at me, do you hear me? Just stay away from me. _Away_."

Turning around, he strode out of the room and down the hall. Henry shoved away his mother's hands and lurched to his feet, leaning in the doorway of the living room, "Dad!" he cried out raspily, but Will kept on going, slamming the front door as he went outside, "Dad! _Dad!!_" Henry's weak vocal chords cracked and his face crumbled into a sob. For a long moment there was the sound of nothing but his quiet, rasping cries. When Tina managed to get back to her feet and come over to comfort him, he shook her off again,

"Leave me the hell alone!" he seethed, "Why can't you just leave me alone, dammit!" He stormed into the hallway and up the stairs, a few seconds later his bedroom door slammed.

Tina stared after him, tears streaming down her own cheeks. She turned back around and saw Cat and Heath standing together and her face twisted into an angry scowl,

"Are you satisfied?" she demanded through her tears and Cat knew it was directed at Heath and not her, "Are you happy now that you have completely torn my family apart?!"

Heath didn't answer her, but Cat stepped forward, her hands up cautiously, "Mom, just try and calm down-"

"Don't you defend him to me, Cat!" she shouted, "Not ever again!" Looking back at Heath, she pointed a trembling finger in his face, "And you: you stay away from my daughter, do you hear me? Don't you touch her, don't you speak to her, don't you even say her name. You may have my husband fooled, but I know what you're up to, and I know what you're trying to do. Give me the smallest reason and I will have you arrested in a second!"

"Mom, are you insane?!" Cat was incredulous. Heath stared at her mother blankly, his face inscrutable.

Tina shook her head dismissively, "Just you try me Cat! You see if I won't! Do him a favor and stay away from him, you hear? Stay away!"

She went out of the room and out the front door, no doubt after Will, leaving Cat and Heath alone.

Cat stared at him helplessly, not knowing what to say. Heath was staring at the ground, chewing his lower lip slowly. There was dried blood at the corner of his mouth and his right eye was already beginning to swell a dark purple.

"What do we do now?" she finally murmured dully.

Heath didn't answer. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned and walked into the hallway toward the front door as well, his head hung low. Cat ran after him, calling, "Where are you going?"

"Out!" he called back roughly.

"Out where?"

"Just out alright?" he shouted, slamming the door behind him. After a few minutes, she heard the revving of his motorcycle and the engine taking off.

Sighing heavily, Cat fell down upon the sofa, pulling her legs up and tucking them up under her. Putting her head down into her arms, she closed her eyes in the comforting blackness and squeezed them tight, wishing that something would happen to change all of this confusion, and most of all that something would happen so that she and Heath wouldn't have to be separated.


	12. Chapter 12: Consequences

_A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's taken me a while to get this update up, and sorry it's not as long as my other ones. Shame on me. BUT, hopefully the content of the chapter itself will make up for it's shortness- read on, and you'll get my meaning:) I'm going to try and get the next chapter up soon as well, so please stay with the story. I'm going to throw my disclaimer in here just because it's been a while: I don't own Wuthering Heights or the characters in it. Emily Bronte (a very amazing woman) does. I've just decided to write a fanfic with my own little modern twist on those timeless characters. So unfortunately, I can't claim any artistic genius. Nope, I sure can't. To those who read and review, thank you so very much. You are appreciated. Now have a sugar cookie! tosses out cookies to readers/reviewers Toodles, luvs!_

_Jess_

**Chapter Twelve: Consequences**

Cat watched from her window the following morning as Henry and her dad drove off in the truck to the school, where Henry would make his confession of his cheating. On his face was a look of utter misery. Will's face was like stone; hard and unyielding.

The outcome was predictable; Henry was permanently expelled from the school district, and also faced with the possibility of criminal charges for the hacking of the school computer system. His confession also incriminated Greg, and he too was given the same punishment, along with the attempted rape charges that Will was bringing against him. Her mother had pleaded and raged, but Will had firmly asserted that if Henry was convicted, he would do little if anything at all to try and get him out of the punishment- he deserved it, so he said, for shaming their family and himself.

In the end it was only Greg that got in trouble. Henry was still expelled from the district, but he wouldn't face any criminal charges. Cat honestly believed that it was because of the great admiration for her father that there was in the community that nothing had really happened to her brother; no one wanted to have to see Will Ernshawl sitting in a courtroom listening to the trial of his own son, head up, but shame written across his face. No one probably thought it was worth it.

The house was so quiet for the next few days after that. Will was solemn and brisk, showing none of his familiar, light hearted behavior. As if sensing his resolve, Tina was also subdued, though her eyes were still red rimmed. Henry stayed in his room, except for the occasional trips to the bathroom and liquor store, while Cat and Heath finished the last remaining days of school.

What bothered Cat the most in all of this was the separation that Heath kept between the two of them. She couldn't understand why he was allowing what her mother has said keep them apart. He wouldn't speak to her, when he came home he worked with her dad in the shop. And when he wasn't there he stayed up in his room, doing what she could only assume was painting. Cat had waited until it was late one night and sneaked out of her window and went over to his, crouching outside and tapping on the pane. He didn't answer, but she knew he heard her. She stayed out there for what seemed like forever, calling out for him to let her in, but she was met with only silence.

Dejected and lonely, Cat kept to the outdoors. Chrissy became her only company as she spent her time in the cave, at her tree or beside the river, trying to readapt to having no one to talk or joke with. It wasn't easy. She hadn't realized how much Heath's company had come to mean to her, and now…

One day, she couldn't take it any longer.

Waiting for a time she knew he would be in The Heights, Cat managed to sneak into Heath's room one evening by scurrying out of her window and into his open one, planning to wait for him to come back.

A little while passed, and the door opened. Heath's brows only rose briefly at seeing her, and he said nothing for a loing moment, then, "You really don't let anything stop you, do you?"

Cat smiled, shaking her head as she walked towards him, "I've always been a disobedient child, didn't you know?" she answered, "And I've been bored as hell spending all this time by myself. She put her arms around his neck, and looked up into his face. "So here I am."

Heath didn't look angry, but his face was cautious, "You could get in trouble with your mom for being here," he added, "Both of us could."

"I'm not afraid if you're not," she said simply, "And I missed you…are you mad at me?"

He shook his head with a slow smile, "No….I missed you too." He tugged on her ponytail so that her head tipped back, "I'm glad you came."

About an hour later, the two of them were stretched out on Heath's bed side by side, as they played a familiar game played in the past called Truth and Lies. One of them would tell a story, then the other would try and determine if the story was the truth or a lie,

"I think…lie!" Cat said decisively, after Heath had gotten done telling one of his stories. To her surprise, he shook his head. "What?" she gushed, "You mean it's true?!"

"Mmhmm," Heath said, "It was a stupid thing to do, but I didn't see it that way at the time. Don't ever try it." He gently nudged her in the side, "Your turn."

Cat hesitantly leaned back down against the bed and thought for a moment, then chuckled lightly, "Okay, here's one. When I was eight years old, my mom got pregnant again. When she told me and Henry that we were going to have a little brother, I asked her where babies come from, and she told me that they came from tummies. So, of course, I wanted to prove that she was telling the truth. One day I snuck into the kitchen and got out a knife, and cut my stomach open to try and find a baby."

Heath laughed out in disbelief, "What?!"

She nodded, "Yep. There was blood everywhere, and I started screaming for my dad. My mom almost fainted when they came running in and saw me standing in a pool of my own blood. Turned out that it looked a lot worse than it was. I really only nicked myself up a little bit. A few stitches at the hospital and I was fine. But boy did my dad give it to me when we got home- I couldn't sit down for a week!"

Heath shook his head dismissively, "No way, Cat. That's a lie, and you know it!"

"It's true, I swear!" she objected, "I couldn't come up with a story like that!"

"Yeah right you couldn't!"

"You want me to prove it?" she challenged, "I've still got the scar on my stomach- look!" Pulling up her shirt just below her bra, Cat pointed to a long, faded gash on her upper belly, "See?"

Heath smiled mischievously, "Yeah? You mean here?" Reaching out he swept his fingers across the skin of her stomach lightly, causing her to shriek in ticklish surprise, "Or here? How bout here?" he asked as he tickled her across the waist. Cat laughed and tried to grab hold of his wrists, but his reflexes were too quick and he eluded her grasp.

When his hands at last stilled, Heath propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her she panted for breath, "Sure it was true," he said, "It's just like you… you'd try anything!"

Cat shrugged, "Maybe not anything."

He used his fingertip to trace the outline of her face, and was quiet for a long time.

"What is it?" she asked.

Heath smiled lightly and shook his head, "You're so beautiful."

Cat laughed out loud, "What?! Yeah right!"

"No, it's true, Cat." he said simply, "You're beautiful… and you don't even know it. You have no idea…"

Cat smiled playfully, "It's your turn, Heath. Tell me another story."

Heath turned his lips up lightly, "Okay…" his eyes suddenly changed and ran down the length of her body, then back up to her eyes, "I'm going to kiss you right now. Truth or Lie?"

Cat's smile gently faded as her pulse quickened. Wanting to mask her surprise, she faked a brash smile and retorted, "Lie!"

Heath paused for a moment, then swiftly brought his lips down onto hers, moving against them steadily. Startled, Cat tried to push him back, but he pushed against her more firmly, holding her face between his hands. For the next few seconds, she lay there paralyzed, not sure what to do. But then she allowed her eyes to drift shut, and slowly opened her mouth, kissing him back. Reaching up her hands, she snaked her arms around the back of his neck, and spread her fingers out in his hair. It was almost like silk, it was soft. Just when she thought he was going to pull away, he only kissed her harder, and Cat was quickly running out of breath. At last, with a final, brief peck, Heath pulled back to look down at her. He traced his fingers across her still bare stomach lightly and she shivered. Smiling, he whispered, "You lose."

Cat licked her lips and started to answer, but stopped short when she looked past Heath and at the door. Her heart began hammering hard.

Tina was standing in the doorway to Heath's room.


	13. Chapter 13: What Did You Do to Her?

**Chapter Thirteen: What Did You Do to Her?**

Cat's mouth fell open a little, and her eyes widened at the look on her mother's face. Heath saw her fear, and turned around to look. He froze when he saw Tina and instantly sat up on the bed, his posture rigid.

Tina's arms were crossed over her chest, feet spread apart. Her eyes were aflame, as she breathed heavily. Cat didn't think she'd ever seen her mother look so angry, and it disturbed her.

Sitting up, she eased up off the bed and pulled down her shirt, "Mom, look. This- this isn't what you think it is-"

"_Shut_ your _mouth_, Catherine." her mother's voice was like icy steel, "For once, shut your mouth."

She slowly walked over to the bed, her pregnancy making it into more of a waddle. Her eyes were fastened upon Heath, who stared back at her warily, as if he knew what was coming.

Stopping in front of him, she paused for a long moment, not moving. Then suddenly, she lashed her hand out, and slapped him full across the mouth, a grunt emitting from her throat as she did. Heath's head went back and he brought his hand to his mouth to wipe away the blood that dripped from his split lip. Cat felt her throat get tight and gritty and stared on helplessly.

Tina looked more calm now, and drew her shoulders back, wrapping an arm beneath her belly, "I knew you wouldn't listen to me," she said quietly, "I knew you'd try and see her anyway… now I'm _finally_ going to get what I've always wanted since the first day I saw you!"

Wheeling around on her heel, Tina made for the door as quickly as she could. Cat looked back at Heath, who was sitting very still, staring straight ahead at nothing. Jumping off the bed, Cat ran after her. Tina was making her way back down the steps to The Heights, walking faster than was safe for her bulk.

"Mom! Mom, wait!" Cat cried out, following her down the stairs, "He wasn't hurting me, he didn't force me. It was an accident, it wasn't supposed to happen. We just-"

But Tina was shaking her head, a grim smile on her lips, "I don't care about any of that- all I care about is getting him out of here once and for all."

"Mom please!" she pleaded, "Don't do this to Heath! Don't do this to me! He's my only friend- and what about Dad?"

"Oh, I'm counting on being able to tell your father, Cat!" her mother said triumphantly, "Letting him find out what that orphan was really after when he came here- I can just see his--ahh!"

Suddenly, Tina missed a step and lost her balance, screaming as she fell forward. Cat cried out her name and tried to reach out and grab her. But was too late, and watched in horror as her mother rolled down the steep stairs until she landed on her back at the bottom.

Running down the steps, Cat knelt down beside Tina, who was scrunched up in a fetal position, her face contorted in pain as she held her abdomen.

"Mom!" Cat cried, "Mom, speak to me! Are you alright?"

Tina gasped for breath, shaking her head frantically. As she held up one of her hands, her eyes widened at the sight of the dark blood that stained her palm. Cat saw, and her heart skipped a beat. "Mom…" she murmured, then screamed, "Heath! Heath come quick, I need help!"

"C-C-Cat…" her mother gasped, her voice trembling with fear, "The b-b-baby!"

Cat heard Heath's footsteps hurry down the stairs quickly. He emerged from the stairway, but stopped short when he saw Tina. A sharp breath escaped his throat, "Oh no.." Kneeling down beside Cat, he asked, "What happened?"

"She fell," Cat said helplessly, "She lost her balance and she fell so hard… what do we do? Is Dad still here?"

Heath shook his head, "No. He went out to the bar a long time ago." Neither one of them mentioned Henry, as both no doubt found the question not worth answering.

"Well what are we supposed to do?" she asked frantically, "Call an ambulance?"

He slowly nodded, "Yeah…that's all we can do for now. C'mon," Bending down, Heath put his hands beneath Tina's neck and legs securely and lifted her off the ground. She had gained weight during her pregnancy and Cat was surprised that he was able to hold her so well. Tina looked up into his face and her features contorted as she tried to weakly fight Heath, "No," she cried out tearfully, "You put me down! Stay away from me you little-"

"Mom calm down!" Cat urged her, "You're only going to make it worse for yourself and the baby. Let him help you!"

"Get Henry!" she seethed, "Get your father, just make him put me down! It's all his fault! All his fault…" she continued her rant in weepy mumbles and ramblings as Heath carried her out of the shop, outside and up the stairs to the house, Cat following right on his heels. Once they got inside, Heath set Tina down on the sofa in the living room, then got back up to his feet, "I'm going to call the ambulance, stay here with her. Try and make her calm down."

As he left the room, Cat sat down on the edge of the couch next to her mother, who was weeping brokenly as the blood continued to stream from between her legs. Her hand covered her face, then when Cat touched it, the fingers parted to reveal her pink, flushed eyes.

"I was… so sure… everything would be alright… this time…" Tina whimpered pitifully, "And now… I'm going to lose another baby…. Another miscarriage… oh my God!" she broke off as her face twisted into a sob again. Cat suddenly felt a lump growing in her own throat and instinctively stroked her mother's forehead compassionately, "It'll be alright Mom," she whispered, not even believing herself, "Really it will…"

The front door opened, and Cat wheeled around, hoping to see her dad.

She had no such luck. Instead, Henry stood in the doorway of the living room.

When he saw their mother, his face whitened, "Oh my God, Mom!" he cried out, rushing over to the couch. He saw the blood and his voice cracked, "Oh _no_… oh no, no, no!" Taking up Tina's hand, he asked Cat, "What the hell happened here?"

Cat shook her head, "It was an accident Henry- an accident."

Henry stroked the hair out of his mother's face, "Mom? Mom c'mon, speak to me. Open your eyes… Mom, I'm here… I'm here…" As the tears welled in his eyes, he suddenly spat out viciously, "Where the hell's Dad?!"

"He's out at the bar," Cat said stonily, "We're calling an ambulance."

"'_We_'?" Henry repeated sharply. Just then, Heath reentered the room, coming back over to the couch. "The ambulance is coming." he said simply, avoiding the glare Henry threw at him.

"How long?" she asked.

"Thirty to forty minutes."

Cat groaned, shaking her head, "This baby doesn't have forty minutes- _Mom_ may not have forty minutes! God, what do we do?"

Tina's face was growing a dark red, and she was huffing and puffing with her cheeks inflating and deflating like miniature balloons. In between her gasps, she opened her eyes and saw her son sitting beside her. Feebly feeling out at the air, she gasped, "H-Hen-ry…" Henry squeezed her hand tightly, the tears freely streaming down his cheeks now, "Shh, just breathe Momma," he soothed, "You're gonna be just fine- just breathe, alright?"

"The ambulance is coming Mom," Cat said with shaky enthusiasm, "They're coming in just a few minutes!"

"They have- have to h-hurry!" she said fearfully, "I- ah!" She broke off as a spasm wracked her body, causing her to curl up and roll onto her side in pain.

"Isn't there someone we can call to come and drive us to the hospital?" Cat asked Henry desperately, "She won't make it if we wait!"

Henry was staring into space in panicked thought, then he answered, "Keller- We could call Pete Keller- he's five miles up the road, and he's got a truck."

"Keller?!" Cat cried out in frustration, "He's an even bigger drunk than you are- he's probably at the bar with Dad or passed out on his couch this time of night!"

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" he shouted back at her, "Mom's dying over here! What do you want me to do?!"

"I don't know!" she screamed.

Suddenly Cat felt Heath's hand come down gently, but firmly on her wrist, his voice coming calm and authoritative, "Both of you stop it. Henry, go call Keller and see if he's home. It's worth a shot."

Henry scowled at him, "Don't you order me around you little-"

"Just _do_ it." Heath snapped abruptly.

Henry's eyebrows rose, but he slowly stood to his feet, then hurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back, relief written on his face,

"He's coming," he said raggedly, "Thank God, he's coming!"

Cat almost smiled with relief, while Heath nodded, "I'll go outside to wait for him. You two stay here."

When he was gone, Tina turned to Henry, looking as though she were trying to speak in between her gasps,

"Henry," she whispered, "L-L-Listen to me-"

But he shook his head, "Just relax Mom, okay? Don't try to talk."

Cat was surprised at how quickly Pete Keller came to their house. She had never known him to be on time for anything. But then it occurred to her that Heath could have said something that was enough to make him hurry. Within a few moments, she was following Henry outside as he carried their mother down the porch and towards Keller's waiting truck, where he would go with her to the hospital, while Cat and Heath would follow on his motorcycle.

"You guys should go tell your dad what happened," Keller said to Cat and Heath, "He's at the Roadhouse shooting pool with my dad."

"We will," Cat said, "Henry be careful!" she called out. Tina's contractions were coming more and more close together now, and it worried her.

He nodded, "I know, I know." As he lowered his mother in the seat of the truck, Cat saw her try and catch her breath as she tugged on his shirt, "Henry,_ listen to me_!" she cried out raggedly. Seeing the tears well in her eyes, he paused and smoothed back her hair, murmuring soothingly, "Alright Mom, what is it? Tell me what's wrong."

Tina shifted her gaze from him to Heath, who was standing behind Cat, "It was him!" she hissed acidly, "It was him!"

Henry's brow furrowed, not understanding. He looked back at Heath, then back at his mother, then back at Heath again. His face suddenly changed and twisted into a scowl. Whirling around, he grabbed hold of Heath's shirt and slammed him up against the side of the truck, growling, "You son of a _bitch_!"

Cat and Keller caught hold of Henry's arms, trying to pull him away, "Henry, stop it!" she shouted, "Have you gone crazy?!"

"What did you do to her?! What did you do to her?! " Henry screamed over and over again at Heath, who only stared back at him stonily.

"Henry, let it go, man!" Keller urged, "Think of your Mom, we gotta get her some help!"

At this, Henry stopped shaking Heath and roughly let him go. His face was flushed beet red, and moisture seeped from his eyes. Raising a finger, he pointed in Heath's face emphatically, "If she doesn't live through this," he said through gritted teeth, "You're dead. You hear me? Dead!"

"Henry, you don't understand," Cat said, "It isn't what you-"

"Hey, you just shut up Cat, alright?" he yelled at her, "Shut up!"

"Get in the truck, Henry!" she shouted back. When he still hesitated, Cat put up her hands and gave him a shove, "Just go! _Go_!"

Henry gave Heath a last, murderous glance, before getting into the truck, and slamming the door, turning back to Tina as the truck backed out of the driveway and sped down the dirt path to the road, tires squealing.

Cat let out a tired breath and looked over at Heath helplessly, shaking her head as she asked, "Why? Why would she say that? Mom knows that it was an accident: why would she make Henry believe you pushed her?"

Heath's jaw was squared and his eyebrows drawn up sharply. Jamming his hands in his pockets, he hunched his shoulders in on himself, "She hates me, Cat." He said dully, "I told you from the beginning, but you wouldn't listen. She hates me. And now… she's making me pay for it."

"But it isn't true!" Cat said exasperatedly, "What she said isn't true!"

Heath glanced at her, "And you think your brother'll ever believe that, Cat?"

Turning around, he walked away back towards The Heights, as Cat remained where she was, letting what he said sink in.

"C'mon!" he called back to her, "We've gotta go! She may not have that much time!"

Running after him as mounted the motorcycle, Cat swung her leg over the seat and wrapped her arms around his waist as he revved up the engine and took off into the approaching darkness on the horizon.


	14. Chapter 14: Departures

_A/N: Alright, so I took a little long on getting this update up. BUT, it's a long one, so you all benefit! There are multiple sections in this chapter, but that's only because I really wanted to move things along and didn't feel like splitting them up into separate chapters to do it. So bear with me on that. Also, after this chapter the story will be jumping ahead in time a bit to move some more things along with the plot. Thank you so much to those who read and review my story, I love you for it. Please keep with it and let me know what you think--Jess  
_

**Chapter Fourteen: Departures**

The four of them were in the waiting room, not speaking; Cat, Heath, Will and Henry. Just waiting; waiting for the doctor to come back and give them a report.

Will was pacing back and forth anxiously. His breath came hard and shallow as he continually shot glances at the long stationary door and the ticking wall clock. Cat watched him, feeling the pit in her stomach deepen and the egg in her throat rise higher. When Cat and Heath had found him at the bar, he had been in the middle of a pool game, laughing and talking with friends. At the news of their mother, his face had literally turned ashen, and in the next instant he was bolting from the room at a run, knocking into several people as he left, including a waitress with a tray full of beers that was soon spilled on the floor. He had driven like a madman on the way to the hospital and Heath had had to slam on the gas of the motorcycle just to keep up with him. Cat knew what he was thinking; she was thinking the same thing: _Not again…Please God, not again…_

Henry was sitting in a corner by himself, his head resting against clasped hands. As Cat looked at him from the corner of her eyes, she saw his lips moving silently, quickly, then realized that he was praying. Under any other circumstances, she would have laughed at this- but now all she wanted to do was cry.

There was something different about this time. Something alarmingly different. The doctor was taking far too long to come. In the past years when Tina had had miscarriages, it had taken no longer than an hour for them to receive the bad news; it had been too soon, the cord was wrapped around the baby's throat, it was nobody's fault…

But they had been waiting there for hours now. As Cat looked out the tall glass window panes, she could see the wee cracks of dawn peeping over the horizon.

Why wasn't anyone coming? What was going on?

Reaching out, she felt the air blindly until her hand closed around Heath's beside her, clasping it tightly. He returned the grasp, as if to give her silent solace.

Suddenly the door to the waiting room opened, and Tina's obstetrician came inside, still dressed in scrubs. He had been the one to deliver both Cat and Henry, as well as all the other dead babies that had been born to the Ernshawls.

Everyone immediately jumped to their feet, gathering around him anxiously.

"Well?" Will asked hoarsely, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Dr. Beauford's eyes met with Cat's for one split second, and suddenly she knew. Knew the real truth.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he stared down at the ground, his hands positioned on his hips, "Will I- I- don't know what to- to-"

Will's eyes shut, and he swallowed hard again, "Just say it Chris…"

Dr. Beauford's voice came strained and quiet, "She's gone, Will. Her and the babies… we- we just couldn't save them."

Cat's mouth went dry, "_Babies_?" she whispered.

He nodded solemnly, "Twins, twin boys."

Will exhaled sharply, and covered his face with his hand, "_God_…" His voice cracked and he stumbled backward, nearly falling into a chair behind him.

Henry looked startled, disbelieving, as tears trickled down his cheeks, "What- what are you trying to say?" he asked brokenly, "That there was nothing you could do? That you let my mom die?" his voice rose to yell, and Cat put her hand on his shoulder,

"Henry don't-"

But he shook her off, pointing his finger in Dr. Beauford's face, "No, you _get_ back in there, and you help my mom, do you hear me?! Help her!"

Cat circled her arms around his torso and held him back as he continued to scream, "Go," she urged Dr. Beauford, "Just go!"

When he had left the room, she let go of Henry, who crumpled down on the floor in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably,

"Mom…." He wailed, "Mom please… oh God no…"

Cat looked over to her dad and saw him sitting straight up in the chair, his hands on his knees as he looked ahead at nothing. The look in his eyes was blank and lost.

She and Heath went to sit on either side of him, carefully taking up his hands,

"Dad?" she whispered quietly, "Dad?"

There was no answer, and she looked over at Heath helplessly. Heath spoke quietly, his voice low and almost soothing,

"Sir? Come on… you should go and see her… and the babies… she'd want you to… you can name them, alright?"

Will slowly turned his head and looked at Heath, as if gradually coming out of a trance,

"Names… we never talked about names… _I_ never…never talked to her about-"

"You can do it now," Heath said, "C'mon, I'll go with you."

His hand still on Will's arm, Heath rose from the chairs with him and gently led him to the door and into the long, dim hallway. He looked back at Cat and nodded toward Henry, who was still weeping on the floor, raising his eyebrows pointedly. She nodded understandingly, and gave him a brief wave of thanks. Just as the door was closing, she heard her father's voice again, this time quaking and broken,

"She's dead- God help me, Heath she's gone!"

"I know sir," Heath said comfortingly, "I know…"

Cat got up from her chair and knelt down on the floor beside Henry, placing her hand on his shoulder awkwardly. To her surprise, at her touch, he threw his arms around her, hanging on for dear life as he cried. Cat couldn't remember the last time she had hugged her brother, and it felt strange now.

"It's alright Henry." She croaked, "It'll be alright."

"But she's dead Cat!" he wept, "Our mom's gone!"

"Yeah," Cat whispered. Her eyes felt hot and gritty and the egg in her throat was making it hard to swallow, "Yeah she is."

* * *

It rained the day of Tina's funeral; a fat, dripping, pelting rain. Half of the town attended, though Cat felt it was more out of sympathy for Will than for love of her mother.

They buried the two dead babies alongside her; Will named them Justin and Jeremy. Cat remembered how very tiny their bodies were when she'd gone in to see them at the hospital. As tiny as they were, they had almost seemed asleep; asleep and very pale. They had been laid on a pristine white bed under a shining silver light, both swaddled in blankets. In the adjoining bed, was Tina, her face covered by a sheet. It had been strange for Cat to see her lying there so still and white, knowing that this was the last time she would ever see her mother's face again. Her father had broke down when he saw her there, not being able to stay in the room for long. Henry had refused to go in, bolting from the hospital after his cries had subsided. So Cat and Heath stayed in the room for a while, Cat sitting between the two beds while Heath stood beside her, his silence comforting her nonetheless.

In the days that followed, the house was solemn and subdued as Cat and Heath aided her father with the funeral arrangements. He seemed to have lost so much of his energy and motivation to do anything. He was like a ghost for much of the time; detached and far away from reality.

No one knew where Henry was during those days. No one asked. No one cared.

Cat felt herself sinking into a pool of depression, melancholy, and guilt. But guilt most of all; frightened guilt. The silence of the house allowed her time to think and ponder. She remembered the wish she had made the day that her mother had threatened Heath against trying to see her; that something would happen to keep them together. Then she remembered her own stubbornness in sneaking out to see Heath anyway, even when he wanted her to stay away. If she hadn't have been so stubborn, her mother never would have stumbled in upon them, she never would have gone down those stairs, she never would have fell.

Cat wasn't used to feeling guilt. Usually she was able to blame someone or something else for problems, but now she felt wholly and completely responsible for what had happened to her mother- and for what was happening to her father. She saw his grief and the poor way he attempted to cope with it, and felt as though she were the cause of it.

Life had become a shade of bleak, everlasting gray.

* * *

Cat was lying awake in bed one night, unable to sleep, when a light from outside caused her to sit up. Getting out of bed, she cracked open her curtain, and saw Henry's motorcycle pulling into the driveway. Sighing heavily, she snapped the curtain back and hurried for the door. Her brother hadn't been home for days now, and though this wasn't an unusual thing, she found that his absence from all of the funeral events and arrangements all of a sudden bothered her.

Marching down the stairs, she reached the bottom step just as he opened the front door. Folding her arms across her chest, Cat clenched her jaw and glared at Henry as he paused in the doorway. His face was a mixture of shame and sadness. His eyes were red rimmed, which told her that he'd been crying, but they were also bloodshot, which told her he had been drinking.

For a long time, neither one of them spoke, before Cat said icily,

"Where the hell have you been?"

Henry looked surprised, and even wounded at her tone, but the look vanished from his face in a 

moment, and he walked off down the hall toward the kitchen, muttering, "None of your business."

But Cat followed him, "You do realize that you missed your mother's funeral don't you, you jerk? _Your mother's funeral_. While me and Heath had to settle everything for Dad about burying our mom, you were off getting drunk!"

Henry was rummaging through the refrigerator. Pulling out a carton of milk, he opened the cap and took a swig out of the bottle, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "Well, I'm sure you and _Heath _had it all under control. I would have just got in your way!"

Cat shook her head at him in disgust, "What is wrong with you? Do you think you're the only one who is hurting from this? We're all hurt Henry, Dad worst of all. Instead of thinking about yourself, you should have been here with me, trying to comfort him."

Henry slammed the refrigerator door shut with his foot and laughed sardonically, "'Comfort him?' When he hates me? When he's the reason that Mom's dead?"

"How is it Dad's fault?" she asked, "He wasn't even there!"

"No, _he_ wasn't," he said bitingly, "But he brought someone else to this house that was there, didn't he? Somebody _else_ was there, right there when Mom fell!"

Cat understood and shook her head cautiously, "Don't even hint at something like that, Henry. I can tell you right now, what you're thinking isn't true. Heath didn't do anything to Mom. I was there, and I swear that he didn't!"

Henry studied her for a long moment, then snickered with false amusement, "You wanna know why I don't believe that Cat? Because I think you'd swear just about anything for that son of a bitch. Anything he wanted, you'd do."

Cat felt the heat rush to her face, and her nostrils flared, "What is that supposed to mean?"

His eyes narrowed, "You tell me."

Raising her chin defiantly, Cat challenged, "So what? What are you going to do? Try and get him arrested? Tell the police he pushed Mom down the stairs? They wouldn't believe you, no one would!"

Henry cocked his head to the side, then shook it slowly, "No. I know they wouldn't, Cat. Not with you and Dad behind him. I'd look like the biggest damn fool there ever was. But you listen to me, and you listen good. I _am_ going to crush him, do you hear me? Whatever I have to do, however I have to do it, I am going to make that guy wish he had never been born. That bastard's taken everything from me; my dad, my mom, my self- respect. Ever since he got here, I've been doing nothing but losing. So I am going to make sure that he has nothing left one day, nothing. And no one's going to stand in my way; not you, not Dad, not anyone. One day, it'll be just me and him, and I will kill him for doing this to me. You see if I don't."

Cat stared at him and shook her head, "You're crazy." She said pitiably, "Crazy."

Henry shrugged shortly, "Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

She turned away and started back for the stairs, "Go to bed. I'll pretend you didn't say anything of this crap tomorrow when your hangover wears off."

"I won't be here in the morning little sister." Henry said in a mocking, melodic voice.

Cat turned her head back sharply, "What did you say?" she asked.

He smiled at her tightly, "That's right! I'm leaving here. Oh, now don't be afraid, I'm not 'leaving'. It's a little too early for that. No, what I mean is that little Johnny's going off to war." When Cat continued to stare at him blankly, he continued, "I enlisted, Cat. I enlisted, and they're shippin' me out to boot camp tomorrow morning!"

He laughed drunkenly, slapping his hand against the countertop, "Well don't just stand there," he said slurringly, "Say something!"

"Are you serious?" Cat asked in disbelief, "Don't play around about this, Henry. This isn't fun-"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious, "Is war a joke, Cat? Is dying a joke? I enlisted, and I'm leaving. Right now. To-day. Any second now. Your kid brother's going off to fight the grown-up's war: how do you like them apples?"

"Were you drunk when you did this?" she asked. Everything was happening so fast. First Mom dying, the Henry enlisting; it was like the world was turning upside down, everything was all wrong.

Henry laughed, "You wanna know the funny thing about it, Cat? I'd never been more sober in my life."

"You weren't drunk… so you were just being plain stupid." She said stonily, "What the hell were you thinking, Henry? Do you even realize what war really is? It's killing. Killing and being killed."

"Good." He replied, "A little blood and gore ought to do me some good! Besides, you won't miss me. No one around here will. I thought you'd be glad I was leaving."

"I'm angry that you're being so stupid." She retorted, "That you've _always_ been so stupid. You didn't have to be Henry. If you'd actually wanted something out of life, you could have had dreams, and went after them."

He snorted, "You mean like you? Little Miss Starshine and Moonlight who's got her head in the clouds? Wake up, Cat. This is real life. You've got as much chance of becoming an actress, model or whatever the hell it is as I've got at walking on the moon."

Cat glared at him, "Get out. Just shut up and get out of here."

Smiling again, Henry threw up his hands in defeat, "Ab-so-lutely little sister. And don't worry, I'll drop you all a line once I get to Kuwait!"

He turned to go, but paused in the doorway, letting the swinging door go. Slowly turning around, Cat saw that his face was suddenly serious again and his face shadowed. He spoke so quietly, she had to lean forward to hear him,

"I wanted to be something too Cat… I _did _have a dream about the future…" His lips turned up in a small smile, "A pilot… that's what I wanted to be… so that I could fly…"

"What happened?" she asked.

Henry shrugged, "I don't know anymore… I don't know…" Shaking his head, he turned around again.

"What am I supposed to tell Dad?" Cat called after him.

Henry didn't turn back this time, continuing to walk away, "Use your imagination." He called back. The front door slammed, and a few moments later she heard the sound his motorcycle driving away.

Sighing, Cat turned out the lights in the kitchen and trudged back into the hall, climbing the stairs with a sudden weariness she couldn't explain.

* * *

Cat hovered outside the door of her parent's bedroom, listening for sound on the inside. There was none. Raising her hand, she knocked briskly on the door, calling,

"Dad? Dad are you awake?"

There was no reply, but Cat knew that that didn't mean that he was still sleeping. He hadn't left the room for over three days now. Joe and Heath had been managing in The Heights, but that wasn't what worried her. It was the isolation itself that made her concerned for her father. She knew that he blamed himself for what happened to Tina and the babies. He blamed himself for his coldness to her in those last few months. And now in the weeks since Henry had left home, she felt that he was blaming himself or that too.

After a few more minutes of knocking without replies, Cat turned the knob, and was surprised when the door opened. Stepping inside, she shut it behind her, and looked.

Will was sitting on the edge of the bed, an array of items spread out around him and on the floor. Cat recognized them as belongings of her mother, things that still hadn't been gotten rid of. She wondered if they ever would be.

Coming over to the bed, Cat sat down beside Will, and touched his arm gently, "Hi Dad," she said, "How you doing?"

He looked up at her blankly, and said her name once, "Cat."

"Yeah," she said in reply, "It's Cat. Are you feeling okay?"

He slowly nodded, looking down at the object in his hands, "Yeah, I'm- I'm fine… This was… her favorite sweater… she wore it every Sunday afternoon… for fifteen years."

"I know, I remember." Her voice brightened, "Well hey, do you think today's the day that you'll come back to work at The Heights? Heath and Joe really miss you!"

Will shrugged carelessly, "I don't know… I don't think I'm ready just yet. I think I need some more time."

"Dad, you've been saying that for three weeks now." Cat said chidingly, "You can't stay in here forever, you know. The Heights is your shop- you've got to go back some time, don't you?"

"I'm not _ready_ yet, Cat!" he said, an edge to his voice now. "Not yet. Not now. Not with your mother-"

"Dad, she's gone." Cat said in frustration, "Staying in this room won't bring her back. Remembering won't bring her back. You know that."

"But I don't know what to do now Cat!" he cried out desperately, "Dammit, I don't know what to do now!" His voice cracked and he fell forward into her arms, holding her close as he began to cry softly.

Cat hugged him back, smoothing his hair comfortingly. Her throat began to close up as her eyes burned, "It's not your fault Dad," she whispered, "It really isn't your fault."

"How'll I ever know that, Cat?" he asked miserably, "How?"

_Because it's my fault, _She thought, _Because I went to Heath's room even when I knew I shouldn't have, because I let him kiss me. None of this is your fault- it's all mine…_

"I loved her Cat," he mumbled into her hair, "I loved her so much… and I never told her enough, 

especially when I…" his voice trailed off, but she knew what he meant.

"She knew that you loved her Dad." Cat assured, "She knew. We all did." She paused, then added, "And you still have us- me and Heath- we're still here for you. We always will be. We love you."

Will sighed heavily and squeezed her tighter, "Oh, thank God for you two. If you hadn't been here I… I don't know what I woulda done. I made you take care of all the funeral stuff, when I should have been doing it, I failed you-"

"No Dad," she swiftly cut in, "You've never failed us. Never."

"I love you two. So much. And I'll do better," he promised, "I swear I will."

"I know Dad. I know that." Pulling back, she smiled at him encouragingly, "C'mon, I made you something to eat!"

Will raised his eyebrows at her, wiping his eyes and managing a playful glance, "You, cook?"

Cat rolled her eyes, "Sandwiches and milk, Dad! C'mon, this is me we're talking about!"

He laughed softly, almost sounding like his old self, "Yeah, I shoulda known!" Rising to his feet, he followed her out of the room and down the stairs, saying, "BLT with extra mustard, right?"

Cat laughed, "Of course! Even I can get that right!"

For the first time in weeks, the two of them laughed together in genuine, heartfelt amusement.

* * *

Cat sat upright in bed, her knees drawn up to her chest as she held her legs with her arms. Her hair streamed out on her back and shoulders like a protective cape that she hid herself inside fearfully. It was the seventh straight night in a row that she'd been unable to sleep. She'd been plagued by nightmares, horrible nightmares of her mother's cold, white corpse, the stiff, doll like features of the twin boys, the blood that had stained the stairs of The Heights. All came back to haunt her night after night, keeping her awake until the wee hours of the morning when they faded away into the light.

Rocking herself back and forth, Cat hid her face in the tiny hollow her knees made and shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the images and sounds in her head.

Finally, she couldn't stand it any more.

She wouldn't bother her dad with her fears. He had been doing so much better in the past few days. She didn't want to make him worry about her. But there was one other person she could turn to.

Throwing back the covers, she jumped out of bed and scampered over to the window, climbing out onto the roof.

Crossing the small gap between the house and The Heights, Cat crouched down by Heath's window. Because of the summer heat, it was cracked open a bit, and she slipped her fingers into the space and lifted it up smoothly, climbing inside before sliding it back down.

Inside Heath's room it was dark, but she could still make out shadows and objects. Hurrying over to the corner, Cat slowly sat down upon the bed, still hugging herself tightly. After no more than a few moments, Heath stirred, and as if sensing her presence, opened his eyes a crack, and saw her. His lids fully opened, and he sat up in bed, "Wha-" He saw the look on her face, and reached out to smooth her hair back gently, "Cat, what's the matter? Are you alright?"

Cat shook her head from to side, "Can I sleep with you tonight?" she whispered hoarsely.

His face filled with understanding, and he folded back the blanket, simply saying, "C'mon."

She scooted herself beneath the warm blanket and laid down on the pillows, as Heath wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her to his chest. She huddled against it, inhaling his scent; earth and soap.

"Tell me what's wrong." Heath murmured in her ear.

But Cat couldn't. She couldn't get her mouth to form the words. When she tried, there was only silence; only mouthing. And suddenly her burning eyes were brimming over, as hot tears fell down her cheeks. The sobs overwhelmed her completely, until she could scarcely draw breath, her body trembling all over.

"Don't cry," He said over and over again in her hair, "Just tell me what's wrong…"

In between the heaves she managed to gasp, "I'm afraid!"

"Afraid of what?"

"That Mom's death is my fault. That I killed her… and the two babies. I killed them Heath- by coming to see you, by wishing that something would happen so that we didn't have to be-"

"That wasn't your fault Cat." Heath said firmly, "You hear me? It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes bad things just happen."

"But how do you know that?" Cat asked desperately, "How do you know?"

"Because I know." He stated. "You're just upset right now Cat. By everything- it's getting to you. You've been so strong these last few weeks, and now you're just scared."

Cat licked her lips and paused, then murmured, "Heath?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we were wrong?"

"Wrong how?"

"In what we did that night, when Mom came in and saw us- do you think it was wrong?"

"Anything that keeps me close to you isn't wrong to me, Cat." Heath replied, "It's only right. Always right…" He kissed her forehead gently, "Go to sleep. I'm here. You're safe. And everything's going to be alright."

"Do you promise?" she asked him.

"Yes." Heath said assuredly, "I promise you that. Try not to worry about it anymore."

She laid her head back down on his shoulder and shut her eyes again. Heath's arms around her felt warm and strong and she felt his fingers begin to stroke her back soothingly. Her body began to relax. Her arm draped out and wrapped around his middle. They held each other in unbroken silence, saying nothing at all.

A while passed and Cat could tell by the rhythm of Heath's breathing that he was asleep.

Raising her head up slowly, she looked down at his facial features, dimly visible by the light on the roof that managed to faintly stream through his bedroom window. Her fingertip grazed the top of his tall forehead, then drifted to the side of his temple, his cheek, his straight nose. His jaw was roughened by the dark hairs that were already sprouting on its surface. She just barely let her fingertip touch his lips, before pulling it back. Cat smiled gently. She lowered her head back down on his shoulder and sighed.

_Thank God for Heath_, she thought drowsily, _Thank God for him…_


	15. Chapter 15: Doing Better

**Chapter Fifteen: Doing Better**

_One Year Later…_

Cat ran into her dad's arms, laughing as he swung her around. In her hand was a rolled scroll of paper with a ribbon tied around it. Even though it was just a piece of paper, she knew how much it meant to him.

Today was the day of her and Heath's high school graduation. Cat was glad to be rid of the place. She'd hated many of the teens there, and the teachers weren't much better in her opinion. Though she wasn't going to college, she still intended on leaving this small town. Now that school was over, there was nothing holding her back now.

"I'm proud of you honey," Will said warmly, as he stroked her cheek," I want you to know that: your daddy's proud of you."

Cat smiled, "I know Dad. I've always known that."

"And your mom," he said softly, "She'd proud too. If she'd…" he trailed off, his face darkening. Though it had been a year, and he was doing much better, Cat knew that her dad would really never get over her mother's death. There were days where she knew he was consumed with memories of her, and of the guilt he'd would forever carry. But most days were good now, and they were becoming easier and easier to get through as more went by.

And now, they had someone to help them get through it.

Cat looked over at the tall brunette standing beside her father and smiled. She'd worried about how the three of them would manage domestically after her mother had died. Tina's dedication to their home had spoiled the Ernshawls. She'd cooked, cleaned and laundered for the entire house, and neither was very good at any of the things she'd done. Cat and her father in the kitchen or laundry room had been like putting fish out of water. After six months of TV dinners, spoiled laundry, and dusty corners, Will had finally cracked and decided to put out an advertisement for a maid/cook for the house, and waited. Approximately two weeks later, there had been a reply.

Mrs. Eleanor Deen was tall, with an almost athletic, runner's frame. Her face was sharply angled, with long nose, thin lips, and arched eyebrows. Her auburn hair was kept back from her face in a tightly wound bun. She had a brisk, straight forward manner, and a mellow voice. Mrs. Deen had also been married before, but had been a widow for three years when her husband had been killed by a drunk driver. She actually lived in a nearby town by herself, but was willing to commute back and forth to the Ernshawl's house.

The first time Cat had seen her, she'd had to try not to stare. Women like Eleanor, or Ellie as she liked to be called, were in short supply in their town. Ellie was a wonderful cook (even better than Tina), and excessively neat. Within days of her arrival, the house was already the picture of cleanliness, and was always filled with a wonderful aroma. On top of this, Ellie had an adventurous, almost masculine side to her that Cat had never seen before in a grown woman. She loved the outdoors, sports, and could hold her liquor as well as any man.

Eventually, the Ernshawls came to depend on her help so much, that Will asked her to come and stay as a live in maid and cook, offering to pay her more. Ellie accepted the offer, but turned down the raise, and within a matter of weeks, had fully situated herself into one of the guest rooms of the house.

Cat came to adore her. Ellie was firm but strong, and was always willing to listen to whatever she had to say. She took on the role of a kind of surrogate mother; scolding, correcting, but also comforting her whenever was necessary. Ellie seemed to know her so well. She became quickly acquainted with Cat's personality and schemes, and wised herself to them. She seemed to be able to see though everything; things that Cat knew her Dad couldn't see.

She didn't look down on Heath, which was something that was important to both Cat and Will. Though she wasn't as motherly to him as she was to Cat, she treated him with kindness and respect.

Though she knew he would never admit it, Cat knew that her dad was completely taken with Ellie. If there were any qualities that Tina had been without in their marriage, Ellie had them all and more. She wasn't as delicate and fragile as Tina had been, and she gave back as good as she got. Unlike Tina, Ellie was willing to go with Will to the bar to have a drink and shoot a game of pool. She watched the football games with him, Cat and Heath, and knew more than he did about the players and statistics. It was clear that they loved each other's company.

When Cat hinted to Heath at whether or not they were in love, he replied that they probably didn't say anything about it at the risk of offending one other- after all, Tina had only been gone for nine months. But Cat still believed that they would be together eventually. She admittedly missed her mother, but also knew that Ellie would be good for Will- very good. She had taken him out of his darkest periods of depression with a few words of blunt sense.

They hadn't heard a single thing from Henry since he had left for the war. No one ever spoke about him, 

which was probably better, as it relieved them all from a good deal of tension and discomfort. Cat figured that no news was good news; she dreaded what would happen to her father the day that a military jeep would pull into their driveway with _news_ of her brother for them. She didn't know if she would ever see Henry again, but she hoped that he kept himself alive for Will's sake.

As her dad set her down, Cat reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, "It's alright Dad. She _is_ proud of me. I know she is."

"Well I'm proud of y'all too!" Ellie chimed in brightly, "Both of ya!" she placed her hand on Heath's shoulder, "Though God knows, I dragged you both here kickin' and screamin' the whole way!"

They all laughed. Will placed his arms around Cat and Heath, hugging them close, "Alright, let's go home you two. Ellie's cooked up a storm to celebrate, and I'm as hungry as a horse!"

The four of them walked together to the parking lot. Cat looked back and forth at the people surrounding her. Together, they almost resembled a family. One big family.

* * *

The summer air was hot and steamy even in the evening. Cat laid sprawled out in the hammock of the great willow tree, her legs hanging out lazily from the sides. Heath was sitting on a branch just above her, leaning against the trunk. His shirt was off and hanging on the branch beside him. His skin glowed like bronze in the evening sunset, peppered with small black hairs that grew on his belly and chest. Those small hairs were beginning to sprout on his jaws now, like the beginnings of a garden; seedlings sprouting up from a bronze earth.

"How does it feel to be a high school graduate?" he asked her.

Cat shrugged, "Alright I guess. No more nasty cafeteria food, no more lockers that jam, no more fowl-breath- Langella," They laughed at that, and she continued, "But it doesn't change my life. It doesn't get me anywhere. I'm still stuck here."

"You wish you'd applied for college?" Heath asked surprisingly, "You?"

Cat shook her head back and forth, "Nah. College was never for me. That's not what I meant. I just… I'd hoped that I would have a plan by now. Some way to get out of here."

"A modeling contract?" Heath asked drily, "A gig in Hollywood? C'mon Cat, I thought you'd gotten over that stuff."

"Gotten over it?!" she exclaimed, "Heath, it's all I think about nowadays! Especially since Dad's okay now, and Ellie's here to look after him. Now I can go and not feel guilty about it."

"Go where?" He asked impatiently, "You've never been anywhere else. You don't know the city, you don't know what it's like there. You'd get swallowed up in a place like New York."

Cat smiled up at him coyly, "But you know the city, don't you Heath? You've been to New York before, haven't you?"

Heath frowned and looked away, "No I haven't."

"Oh yes you have! I saw that look on your face! If you went with me to New York, we could make out just fine. You know it. And Dad wouldn't have to worry about me, and we could get a small apartment," Cat's face suddenly lit up and she sat up in the hammock, "And you could reenter that art contest! God, Heath, that's it! You can reenter the contest-"

Heath was shaking his head irritably. Snatching up his shirt, he jammed it over his head, muttering, "Cat, _no_…"

But Cat went on as if she wasn't even listening to him, "I know you can definitely win now. And when you win the money and scholarship, I can convince Dad to let me move to New York with you! Oh, even Dad couldn't say no to _that_!"

"Cat, did you hear me? I said _no_!" Heath snapped angrily.

But Cat was unshaken. "Oh calm down, you'll thank me for it later. I've got to go and talk to Dad to see if he can get in touch with Mr. Langella. You know how disappointed he was when you didn't reenter during school. I'm sure he'll arrange everything now!"

"He's not arranging anything, cause I'm not painting anything, Cat!" he stated firmly.

Jumping down from the hammock, Cat picked up her sandals from the ground and waved up at Heath, "C'mon, let's go!" she called excitedly. Heath didn't budge, and she shook her head breezily at him, before taking off across the fields toward the house.

Heath stared after her frustratingly, breathing heavily. Leaning back against the trunk again, he swept his fingers through his hair, and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he jumped down from the tree. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started back home, but walked slow, his shoulders hunched in on themselves.

* * *

Cat leaned on a countertop in the kitchen, facing Ellie, who was mixing batter for a cake. A newspaper was in her hands, as she read aloud from an article excitedly, "'And so the City Council is allowing for real estate developer, Gregory Linton to introduce what he is calling "The Housing Project" to the town. The plan includes the erecting of luxury homes and condominiums for city folk who prefer the provinciality of the country to the mad whirl of the city. Construction on the first batch of the mansions has already begun, and should be completed within five to seven months. As proof as his devotion to this plan, Linton is purchasing one of the building plots in the gated community as one of his many homes across the country, where he plans to reside for half of the year!" Cat sighed dreamily, "Can you believe it, Ellie? Because we can't go the city, the city wants to come to us!"

Ellie shook her head with a snort, "Yeah, I believe it honey. 'Provinciality' indeed! Just the royalty come down from on high to mingle with the damn commoners!"

Cat frowned, "What's the matter, Ellie? Don't you like this?"

"I can't say that I do honey." She answered wryly, "I've been around for a while. And I know what all this means. They did it back in my old town. All the big shots will build their vacation 'cabins' and 'cottages' out here, and pretty soon, the pictures on their postcards will be messed up by the sight of us common folk with our trucks and trailers. And when that happens, they'll buy us all outta here."

Cat shrugged confusedly, "And? What's wrong with that? Then we can move to the city!"

Ellie laughed quietly, shaking her head, "Boy… you got a lot to learn honey. And the first thing you better understand, is that it takes money to live in New York City- the part you got your eyes set on anyway. Money those honchos aren't gonna give us. Money your Daddy don't have. Besides, he would never move to New York, or any place like it for that matter. He'd be like a fish outta water there." She laughed again, "The only place he's ever fit's here. In his shop, in his home, in this town. He won't ever leave it. And he shouldn't."

"But Ellie!" Cat whined, "I've _got_ to get _out_ of this _town_! Even you have to admit that I just don't fit here! I'm like a fish out of water!"

Ellie answered evenly, "Only cause you think that way, Cat. I think if you found a reason to stay, you'd fit just fine."

"Well, I don't, so there." Cat said stubbornly.

"Oh no?" Ellie asked, "What about your Daddy? What about Heath?"

"What about them?"

"You'd leave them for a place you don't even know anythin' about?"

Cat paused, somber. Then she flared up again, "I have a solution so that Heath and I can still be together, but he's being so- ugh!"

Ellie answered, "Now I've been meaning to talk to you about this. Cat, why don't you leave that poor boy alone?"

"About what?!" Cat asked, "Just because I'm trying to help him out-"

"That may fly with your Daddy sweetheart, but not with me. And not with Heath. We both of us know why you really want him to enter that contest. And it doesn't have anythin' to do with furtherin' an artist's career! You want him to move out there so you can try and live out your own fairy tales!"

Cat glared at her sorely, "He's been talking to you, hasn't he?"

"Even if he hadn't, I'd know what you were up to, Cat. You need to leave Heath alone, and let Heath do what Heath wants to do. You really bother him when you pressure him like that. If you want to be a real friend to him, you'd let him do what makes him happy. And he's happy right here."

"But how can that be?" Cat asked dully, "How can he be happy here? What's here to be happy about?"

Ellie looked at her and smiled in a sad, knowing way, "You. You are."

Cat looked down at her lap, "You think he's really pissed at me about this?"

"Why don't you talk to him, and find out for yourself?" she suggested. "He's up in his room."

* * *

Cat pushed open the door to Heath's bedroom and went inside. He was laying on his stomach on the bed, bent over another of his sketch pads. His earphones were over his ears as music from his walkman blasted into them. Pausing in his sketching, he pushed back a strand of hair from his face.

Walking over to the bed, Cat waited a moment, then reached out and pulled the headphones off. Heath started in surprise, then looked back and saw her, and his face relaxed into his unreadable expression.

She sat down on the bed next to him, "Hi." She said softly.

He turned back to the sketch pad, giving a short, "Hey." in reply.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, then Cat went on, "Look, we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About earlier. At our tree. I-" she paused, biting her lip hard, "I was wrong to pressure you about reentering that art contest. I know I was. You know me I… I want what I want. If you don't want to do it, then I understand. You're not my meal ticket outta here. Do what you want to do."

Heath had paused in his drawing at her words, but still didn't look at her. When she finished, he said, "Do you really mean that?"

Cat nodded, "Yeah, I do."

He nodded, "Okay." Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat next to her, nudging her arm, "You know I didn't have all that much of a chance of winning, don't you?"

Cat nodded again, "Yeah, I know." She said sullenly.

"I've never had any professional training, I didn't know what they were looking for, and I didn't even really know what I was going to submit."

"Yeah, I know."

He paused, then murmured quietly, "I still don't know yet."

Cat glanced at him sharply, "What? What do you mean 'still'?"

Heath cracked a small smile, and rolled his eyes in reply.

Cat gasped in delight, "You mean, you mean you-"

"Yeah, yeah. I entered yesterday. I called Mr. Langella, and he said there was still time. I've been trying to get sketch out ideas for it, but-"

Cat threw her arms around him, laughing, "I knew it! I knew you would! Thank you, thank you, thank you Heath!"

Heath returned her hug, but answered, "Hey don't thank me yet. I haven't won anything, and I told you there's a good chance that I won't."

"But now there's a chance that you will!" Cat offered, "What made you change your mind?"

Heath shook his head, "I don't know… I guess cause it meant so much to you. I didn't want-"

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't want you to be mad at me. And you would have been. But Cat," his face became serious, and he took her hand, "If I win-"

"When you win." She broke in confidently.

"_If _I win," he insisted, "And you go to New York with me, will you promise me something?"

"Sure, what is it?" she asked.

"Promise that I won't lose you there."

Cat blinked, then gave a small laugh, "'Lose me?' What is that supposed to mean?"

"Promise you won't leave me." Heath replied, "That you'll stay with me. No matter what happens."

Cat shrugged confusedly, "Heath, what do you think is going to happen?"

"Just promise, alright?" he urged, "Please."

She nodded slowly, "Okay. Sure, I promise. We'll stay together."

He smiled lightly, "Good. As long as that happens, I'll go anywhere you want to go."

Cat grinned, "Right now I want to go to the building site of the Linton mansions!"

He frowned, "The what?"

"Haven't you heard? Some real estate developer is moving here to build a bunch of mansions and condos- can you imagine Heath? Millionaires living here of all places!"

Heath squared his jaw, "Yeah… moving away from here may not be so bad an idea after all!"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Nothing. Come on, let's go. But we better make it quick- if I'm going to enter this contest, I have to have more time to plan this time around."


	16. Chapter 16: The Painting

_A/N: I am soooo sorry I took so long on this update, folks! I feel really bad about that, but I had to do a lot of thinking about the direction I was thinking of taking in this chapter. So the delay is partly due to my own insecurities and hesitations. But hopefully you'll enjoy the result, as this chapter does see Cat and Heath's relationship go to another 'level.' I won't say too much and spoil it, but I will throw out a small little warning that this chapter is in the PG-13 rating for an intense scene of heated sensuality. So just be advised. Other than that: enjoy it lovelies!--Jess _

**Chapter Sixteen: The Painting**

"Cat honey, pass the greens." Will asked her two nights later at dinner. Smiling over at Heath, he said, "So, I hear you're going ahead with this art contest thing again Heath!"

Heath nodded, "Yeah sir, I am. I had a little persuasion along the way though…" he shot a mischievous grin at Cat, who giggled in reply.

Ellie rolled her eyes, and asked, "What about your plans for the painting? You have any ideas for it? I imagine it's gotta be something real good."

Heath nodded again in agreement, "Yeah, you're right- it does. I just-" he broke off and sighed, "I guess I just don't have much inspiration for something yet. It's something I had trouble with last time. I really don't know what I'm gonna do about it."

"Anything we can do?" Will asked earnestly.

He shrugged, "I can use all the help I can get I guess."

"What about that tree you and Cat are always goin' to?" Ellie suggested.

Heath paused, his forehead wrinkling in distaste, "I wanna do something a little more creative than a tree."

"How about a self portrait?" Will offered, "Like Picasso or somethin'."

"It was Van Gogh who did the self portrait Dad." Cat reminded.

"Yeah, yeah Cat, whatever." He said breezily.

Heath smiled lightly, "Naw," he replied, "I'm not one for vanity- or self reflections."

"Well how about your folks?" Ellie said, and Cat stared at her. No one ever mentioned Heath's old family. No one had ever seemed to want to, as if they were a secret or mystery that people wanted to stay hidden.

Heath's face had darkened for a brief moment, but it quickly recovered and he simply shook his head, murmuring a quiet, "No." that ended that possibility.

For a long moment, there was silence at the table, then Cat poked Heath in the ribs with her elbow, smiling as she said, "Hey, what about me?"

Heath looked at her confusedly, "What do you mean?"

She answered, "Why not paint _me_ for the contest?"

Ellie clicked her cheek disapprovingly, "Oh now, Cat, _really_!"

Cat shook her head at her, "No, I'm serious! Why not?"

Will laughed quietly, "Well it sure would make a hell of a pretty picture, wouldn't it?"

Ellie shook her head at him, "Now don't you go encouragin' her Will!"

He held up his hands helplessly, "It's not my picture El, it's Heath's. He wants to paint Cat, he can."

"Heath, don't do it!" she said to him firmly, "No sense in pumping up Cat's ego even more than it already is."

"Oh c'mon!" Cat whined, "Why not? Me and Heath are best friends, why shouldn't he paint me?"

Ellie turned to Heath again, "What do you think Heath? I know that you and Cat are close, but don't let her bully you into this one."

Heath paused, then shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not."

"Alright quiet down, all of you," Will urged, "It's time for the news." Getting up from the table, he went into the living room and settled into his recliner, switching on the television set.

Ellie got up as well, "Why don't you two make yourselves useful and do the dishes for me? Lord knows I've been in this kitchen long enough!"

"Ellie, I don't feel like-" Cat began, but Heath cut in, saying, "Sure, no problem."

Ellie smiled at him and came around the table to kiss his cheek, and pinch Cat's, before going out of the room.

Cat glared at Heath pointedly, "What'd you do that for?" she asked, "You know how I hate doing dishes!"

"Ellie works too hard." He answered, as he began clearing away the dishes, "Besides, isn't it obvious why she wanted to leave?" He lowered his voice and nodded towards the living room, "Your dad's in there. She still doesn't want us to know. Let them have their little time alone, it won't kill you."

A few minutes later, they were standing side by side before the sink, as Heath washed and Cat dried. She waited a few moments, before asking, "Heath?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you really paint me for the contest?"

Heath paused, then smiled secretively, "I don't know…I haven't made up my mind about it."

"But you have thought about it," she said, "Right?"

He nodded admittedly, "Yeah, sure I have. But then I also thought about what a pain in the ass you'd be to paint. God knows you can't sit still for more than two minutes!"

"Oh shut up!" she said, elbowing him in the ribs, "You know I could if it was for this- I know I could!"

"I didn't think you'd care enough about it to have me paint you Cat."

"Sure I do!" she exclaimed, "It just may get me the exposure I need! Besides… it sounds like a cool thing to do."

Heath looked at her skeptically, "You really think so?"

"Yeah!" she said. "So what do you say? Do you at least wanna give it a try?"

Heath looked down at the soapy water, then sighed. Closing his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders loosely, "Yeah…sure. Why not?"

"Great!" Cat smiled, pleased, "When do we start?"

"Come to my room tonight after we finish here. But I'm warning you Cat," he said cautiously, "This may not be as fun as you think it'll be."

"Oh stop treating me like a child!" she said breezily, "I can handle it. And this is just an experiment. If it doesn't work, then fine."

* * *

"Why the long face Cat?" Ellie asked her as they strolled down the aisle in the grocery store a couple of weeks later. "Something happened?"

Cat rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest, "No Ellie, nothing's happened. And that's the problem!"

Ellie smiled musingly, "Let me guess: Heath."

"Yeah, Heath!" she said, "He hasn't had me sit for him in two weeks- _two weeks_! I don't know what's the matter with him."

"Maybe he just needs time to think Cat." Ellie reasoned, "This contest is a big deal and he may just need time to-"

"Time is running out Ellie." Cat interrupted, "He's a good artist, and he can do this. He knows he can. He's just not trying hard enough. I've tried to get him to start again, but every time he just makes some lame excuse; 'Not now Cat,' 'Maybe later Cat,' 'I'm just not up to it today Cat,'. Now all he wants to do is work with Dad or hang around the woods. Soon it'll be too late for both of us. I can't let that happen."

"Well what's happened when he has painted you?"

Cat shrugged impatiently, "I have no idea. He never lets me see anything he does. Sometimes I've just sat there for hours while he works. Then, he'll just stare at me sometimes- not even doing anything. He says he's trying to see me- whatever that means. But it always ends with him getting really frustrated, and we get into a dumb fight and- ugh! I didn't think this would be so complicated."

"Just give him some time and space honey." Ellie said, "One thing you've got to learn about men- they love their time and space. Try and muscle in and you've got a problem. Heath'll come around. Maybe at the last minute, but he'll get to it. He's doing this for you, so he will."

There was a long pause, and Ellie's face suddenly changed. She seemed awkward and troubled about something. Cat noticed, and asked, "What is it?"

"Cat," Ellie said quietly, "How are things really between you and Heath? Everything… normal, right?"

Cat frowned confusedly, "Yeah, I guess so. We fight but, it's always over in a day or two. You know that."

"Yeah, but that isn't what I really mean. I mean, the two of you…you're not doing anything you shouldn't'…are you?"

Cat stared at her as her pulse began to quicken. It scared her how excellent Ellie was at detecting things. It scared her even more at the possibility that she might tell her Dad. He was the only one who'd seen Cat and Heath together that hadn't been able to detect his feelings for her. They hadn't done anything remotely romantic since that awful night that Tina had fell, not even close.

But there were times when…when Cat would feel Heath's eyes on her and when she looked up and saw the look in his emerald irises, she got this weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was the same feeling she'd had that day in his room when he'd kissed her; a twisting sensation accompanied by an uncontrollable fluttering- 

something she'd never felt before in her life. It was enough to confuse the hell out of her about everything about the two of them.

Her and Heath? Together? Like…_that_? Was that what was happening? Was that what she wanted?

Was that what Heath wanted?

"I don't know how you can ask me that." Cat said, trying to make her voice sound bored and flippant, "Heath's not my type." She forced a laugh, "I don't have a type. Who do you think would wanna put up with me?"

Ellie's face gradually relaxed, until she was laughing with her, "Yeah…guess you're right about that one."

Cat felt genuine relief flood into her slowly. As long as Ellie or her dad didn't question her about her and Heath's relationship and what it was or wasn't becoming, she didn't have to think about it. She didn't have to worry or stew over anything.

She didn't have to make any admissions. To them…or to herself.

* * *

Cat knocked quickly on Heath's bedroom door, then went inside, shutting it behind her. He was sitting on his bed, working inside his sketch pad. Looking up, he gave her a small, tired smile and gestured with his head, "Hey you. C'mon over here."

Climbing on the bed, she sat next to him, leaning against the wall. Nudging him with her elbow, she asked, "You beat?"

He nodded wearily, "It's that obvious, isn't it?"

"Well there are tell tale signs!" she said playfully, running her finger across his chin that was bristly with the shadow of a beard. "You sure you're up for this? If you need to sleep-"

"No, I'm fine." He said, shaking his head, "I just need some coffee or something, and I'll be alright. Besides it's been a while, and I know you're probably pissed at me for taking such a long break."

"Well you know I always forgive you in the end." She said good naturedly, "I can never stay mad at you forever." She nodded to the sketchpad, "How's it going?"

Heath shook his head, and handed it over to her. Cat hesitated for a moment, too surprised to take it. Heath never let her see inside his sketchpad, normally he was very touchy about that.

Slowly taking it from him, Cat flipped it open and began to flip through the pages. They were plastered with numerous sketches of her in various poses. The pictures were done with amazing detail, some focusing on particular features of her face, like her eyes or mouth.

Looking back at Heath hopefully, Cat attempted a smile, "These are good, right?" her voice trailed off at the expression on his face, "No? They're bad?"

Sighing heavily, Heath took the sketch book back and flipped impatiently through the pages, "They're just so… mechanical. So damn ordinary. There's no life to any of them- and you're so full of life. They won't win anything. I don't know what to do to fix them."

Cat studied the pictures more carefully. Heath had attempted to put her in classical, traditional poses in some of the pictures. In some he had drawn completely new clothes for her; fancy, beautiful ones. In some it looked like she had on makeup. Her hair was done up in some. They were drawn excellently, but Cat understood what he meant by them being ordinary. There was just something missing about each of them.

She spoke her thoughts aloud, "They're just not me."

"What?" he asked.

"That's what it is," she said, "None of them fit who I am. They're all someone else. Not me. C'mon Heath, let's be real. I'm none of this fancy, sophisticated stuff. I'm no Mona Lisa: I'm just Cat: Jean, t-shirt and ponytail Cat. What's wrong with just painting me like I am?"

"I don't know." He said, "I wanted to make it unique; special. Something that just pulls in attention. And jeans, t-shirts and ponytails don't do that."

Cat shrugged, thinking, "Okay…why don't we just lose them then?"

"Lose what?" Heath asked, still looking at the drawings.

"The jeans, the t-shirt, the ponytail. All of it."

"And replace them with what?"

Cat paused, then answered, "Nothing."

Heath made no response for a moment, then he stopped short, and stared at her blankly, understanding. "You-" he murmured, "You mean…nude?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Why not?"

He gave a short, surprised laugh, "'Why not?' Because, it's… _nude_, that's why!"

"You'd be uncomfortable painting me nude?" she asked surprisedly.

"Well no! I'm fine with it, but-" he said quickly, "But I mean…you're saying you wouldn't mind being…naked?"

Cat shook her head breezily, "Oh God no! I honestly don't see what the big deal is with people and their fear of nudity. We're born naked- it's nothing but natural."

"Well that's one way to look at it." He said ruefully, "But there are other ways too."

"Like?"

Heath's expression turned serious, "Well for one, your dad's. Somehow I don't think he'd like it so much."

Cat waved her hand, "You worry about him too much. He doesn't have to know."

"But he'll want to see the picture," Heath reasoned, "And suppose it wins and-"

"Well in that case, you can tell him you did it from imagination and not from real life!" Cat said impatiently, "It's just art! Not a big deal."

"Nothing's a big deal for you Cat." Heath said musingly, "Everything's so simple- no strings attached."

"This is a big deal for me." She said, "A real big deal. I want you to _win_."

Heath smiled at her, "And you think a picture of you naked can do it?"

Cat gave a mischievous grin of her own, "Well, I wouldn't be too surprised about it if it did!"

They laughed at that, and when it subsided, Heath nudged her gently, "Look at me."

Cat turned her body around so that she faced him and listened,

"If we do this, we've got to be smart about it. You hear me? That means no telling your dad or Ellie anything. Not even hinting at it. As hard as it may be for you, you've gotta keep your mouth shut. We'll do it late, when no one will try and bust inside and surprise us. Hopefully, I'll be able to get it done in a week or so."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a child, Heath." Cat said.

But he looked at her skeptically, "I never can be too careful with you. You're gonna kill me one day, but for now, I wanna stay alive while I'm still young."

Reaching out, he ran his hand across her temple and looked at her steadily, "And you sure _you're_ okay with this? Really Cat? I don't want you to do it if you don't want to."

"I'm fine." She assured him, "Really. It won't be a big deal."

He shook his head, "I'm not so sure about that, but…If you're sure, then we'll do it."

"So how about now?" she asked anxiously.

Heath hesitated, glancing toward the door, then back at her. Guessing his thoughts, she said, "They're both asleep."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

Getting up off the bed, he started to get the art supplies ready, repositioning the easel, and putting a new canvas on the stand.

Cat stayed on the bed, suddenly feeling awkward. Was she supposed to just get undressed now, as he was setting up? Or did she go into the adjoining bathroom, then come out? Would it even make a difference if he was going to see her naked anyway?

Heath glanced at her briefly, then saw her face, and stopped short in what he was doing. "Do you want to just forget this whole thing? Because Cat, I will. If you're uncomfortable, you know that I wi-"

"No!" she interrupted, suddenly feeling very stupid. "No, I'll do it." Getting up, she went straight into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her. Quickly, she tugged her shirt over her head, and tossed it on the ground. Sliding out of her jeans, she folded them and laid them on top of the closed toilet lid, putting her shirt on top. Reaching back, she started to unhook her bra, then stopped short, looking at her self in the mirror.

She felt very funny looking into a mirror at herself. It suddenly dawned on Cat that she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen herself naked- _really _seen herself. She'd never stopped and scrutinized her body. She never felt like she had to.

Undoing the hooks on her bra, Cat let it fall to the ground. Reaching down, she slid her fingers into the sides of her panties and let them too fall. She looked into the mirror.

Her breasts were round and stiff, sitting on her chest like twin plums. The area of the areolas became darker and darker as they neared the center of the nipples, that protruded like dark brown seeds from her skin. Her waist was slim, gracefully curving inward, then curving outward as it flowed into her hips. Her belly was taut and smooth, dark hairs sprinkled around her belly button like pepper. Those same hairs made a subtle path down into the triangular darkness between her legs. The curly hair there was grown thick and dense.

Cat stared at her body as if she seeing it for the first time. She almost didn't recognize it. It was so new, so foreign…and yet…nice.

"Are you okay?"

Heath's voice from outside startled her, and she jumped, looking behind her as if she expected to see him standing in the doorway. No one was there. She called back, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a sec." Cat took a deep breath, and swallowed the egg that was forming in her throat. Raising one arm, she started to drape it awkwardly across his breasts, then thought better of it, and let it down. Turning back around, she closed her hand around the door knob and slowly twisted it, pulling the door open and stepping outside.

Heath's back was to her. He had taken a sheet off the bed and spread it out on the floor, along with a few of his pillows. The easel was positioned a few feet away from it, already set up with the canvas. Heath was sitting down on a stool, mixing paints on a small stand beside the easel.

Cat lingered outside the bathroom door for a few moments, unsure of what to do. At last, she swallowed again, then cleared her throat loudly.

Heath turned around to look at her, then stopped short. His mouth cracked open a little, and she saw his Adam's apple bob once as he swallowed. Without taking his eyes off of her, he set the paints down on the table, and rose to his feet, coming over to her.

Goosebumps rose up on her flesh and her heart started to race. She clenched her hands tightly at her sides and held on.

Heath stopped when he was standing no more than a foot or two before her. His gaze swept up and down her body once, before locking with her eyes. Cat's mouth went dry at the look in his eyes. Licking her lips, she tried to speak, but it came out in a raspy croak, "Well? What do you think?"

Heath reached out and pulled the scrunchie out of her hair. Raking his fingers deep into her hair, he used them to fan it out on her shoulders. He touched her arm, her forearm, her wrist. His hands were cold, and she shivered.

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, not speaking. Then Heath stepped back, and gestured to the array of pillows on the ground, "Sit down there." He said quietly.

Cat went over and lowered herself down onto the blanket. Her hair was beginning to create a sort of warmth for her, as it covered much of her back and shoulders.

Heath had sat down on the stool, and was studying her closely. Cat shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, unsure of what to do.

He gave her an answer, "Turn your body to the right. Rise up a little on your arms. Not too much- come down just a little bit more. Now relax your shoulders. Chin down, and look at me. Now…smile."

Cat blinked, "What?"

"Think about something that makes you laugh, and give me a smile. Not a big one- a small one; playful, mysterious. There!" he said suddenly as Cat turned her lips up, "Just like that. Don't lose it. Keep looking at me."

Picking up his palette and a brush, he gave a short sigh, "Alright. Here we go…"

* * *

Cat laid across the bed sheet on the floor, her feet crossed together in the air as she rested on her arms and looked up at Heath, trying to keep the small smile that he had come to love on her lips.

It had been like this for a week or so. The two of them would come to his room after dinner and stay there, waiting until Ellie and Will were sure to have gone to bed, then around midnight or so, Heath would begin to paint her again.

That first night had been slightly awkward and embarrassing for the both of them. Cat had never felt so self conscious in all of her life, and as she had looked up at Heath, she knew that he was taking in every detail of her body. At times they lingered longer on certain parts of her body than others, causing her to unwillingly blush in the face. That 'look' hadn't left the emerald green depths once. Nevertheless, he had remained concentrated and focused, his eyes only slightly narrowed with studious seriousness as he painted the first layer.

Then, as the days passed, things had gotten easier. Cat had gradually become comfortable in her nudity, and Heath seemed to become used to it. Granted, every time Cat shed her clothes, she noticed the brief flash that entered his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and they settled into the camaraderie they normally had.

Though he had settled back into his desire for secrecy, Heath had told Cat that the painting was almost done, and all that was really left was to add detail to it; highlight to her skin and hair and things like that.

Still holding her smile, Cat said playfully, "This painting better win for all the times I've had to sit on this cold floor!"

Heath smiled at her, "We'll see."

"What do you think about it?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think it's good? Do we have a chance of winning?"

He shrugged lightly, leaning forward to dab at the canvas with a pointed brush, "What does it matter what I think? I'm not the one who'll be judging it."

"But you can still have an opinion," she said, "I mean you're the artist. You've gotta think something about it. Tell me what it is."  
Heath paused, squinting at the painting for a minute, then dabbing it gently with his paint brush. Setting it down on the table beside the easel, he brushed off his hands, "I think…that we're done."

"What, for tonight?" she asked casually.

But he shook his head, "Nope. I mean done. Really done."

Giving a small gasp, Cat's eyes lit up, "Really? Well, can I see it?"

To her surprise he nodded, gesturing with his neck, "Sure. C'mon over."

Getting up off the floor, Cat hurried over to the easel, coming to stand behind Heath to look at the picture. What she saw surprised her.

Only the upper part of her body showed in the portrait, her arm covering her right breast as she leaned forward, and looked sideways at the viewer. Her voluminous hair was spread out in wildly across her back and shoulders, some strands hanging across her forehead in gentle bangs. But it wasn't the body positioning that caught Cat's attention. It was the way Heath had painted her face. Her lips were half curled up in an amused, mysterious grin; as if she knew she had a secret that she refused to share with anyone. And her eyes… they were slightly shaded by her eyelids so that her gaze was lazy, yet extremely aware of all around her. They were playful and light, yet extremely intense. They were almost magnetic.

Cat stared at the painting stupidly. For a long moment, she was at a loss for words, then she murmured, "Is that…me?"

Heath nodded, "That's you." He said softly.

Cat gave a shaky laugh, smoothing back her hair. "Wow." She said, "It's… so new. I never thought I looked like that."

"I did." He replied, "I knew that was in you. That's what I wanted to bring out."

She stared at it longer, then laughed again, "Wow," she breathed, "You _are_ good."

Heath shrugged, "You sat for it. I just painted you."

"You sure did," she said pleasingly. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his temple, then murmured, "Thank you." in his ear. She kissed him on the side of his face, near the mouth. Starting to pull away, Cat suddenly paused and looked at Heath in the eyes. Something was in them that made her want to kiss him. Closing her eyes briefly, she gave him a peck on the lips. Then another. He kept his eyes open as she did, staring back at her, his face blank and unreadable. Feeling embarrassed, Cat drew back and started to go back toward the bathroom to get dressed again.

Suddenly she felt a sharp jerk on her arm and was pulled back. Whirling around, Cat murmured, "Wha-"

She was instantly cut off as Heath's mouth suddenly covered hers, kissing her; hard. He hadn't budged from his spot on the stool, but pulled her forward so that she leaned over him. Stunned, she stood absolutely still for a moment. Then that churning feeling in her belly seemed to evaporate into a warmth that quickly spread up her chest, and into her throat when it reached her lips. They melted under Heath's, slowly opening and allowing his tongue to touch and tease hers. Reaching up her hands, she used them to rake through his hair, and tried to match the passion of his kiss. She moaned softly as he clenched her body tight to his, his fingers digging into the skin on her back almost painfully. Cat's mind wasn't even working now. She couldn't think clearly- not about anything. What she was doing now, what she was allowing Heath to do, all seemed to come out of a strange, but pure instinct.

Heath's hands slid down her back and grasped at her backside. As he brought her even closer to him, Cat started at the feel of a firm pressure against her leg, and broke the kiss to look downwards. Her pulse quickened as her heart began to hammer. Looking back at Heath, she saw that he was smiling at her softly. His eyes glowed. He kissed her again, then stood up from the stool. Slowly, he pulled his shirt from over his head and tossed it on the floor. As he brought her to him again, Cat felt that his skin was tight and hot.

Taking her by the arms, he slowly lowered her down to the ground on the sheet and pillows. Their eyes never left each other. Heath's hand drifted across her shoulder, then slowly moved further down her arm, then her waist, her hip, then closed around her thigh and pulled it further in to his side. Bringing his lips down upon hers again, he kissed her deeply. Cat wrapped her arms around his upper waist, then turned them upwards so that her hands laid across his shoulders, still keeping their lips locked There was a warm, throbbing sensation in between her legs that she had never felt before. It was foreign, but pleasurable nonetheless.

Suddenly she jerked and emitted a groan muffled by the kiss, "Mmmmmm!" Heath had moved his hips up against hers in a gentle, but firm stroke that send an electric pulse through her body as she felt the stiff pressure through his pants push against her. The warmth between her legs became a steaming heat that quickly spread throughout her body. They broke the kiss at the same time, both breathing heavily as their breath mingled together. Heath reached up and smoothed back Cat's hair with his hands, then kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her eyes. Cat brought her lips closer to his, offering them to him, and for a moment, their faces wavered before one another, moving close, then pulling back, then moving close again, before finally coming together another time.

Heath moved against her again, this time more forcefully, and now both of them moaned lowly. Breaking their lips apart, Heath began to plant his lips along Cat's neck and shoulders as his hands found other places on her body that made her breath quicken in surprise. No one had ever touched her in those areas before- and certainly not like this, not in the way Heath was touching them. Her heart was pounding so loud she could feel the beating in her ears.

Then she felt Heath's hand come in between their bodies, and reach down below to where his pants zipped up. As he undid the button and zipper, Cat felt a twinge of panic shoot through her body.

Something was coming. Something she didn't know anything about. Something she wasn't sure she even wanted to know anything about- not yet.

And there was something else too: her dad. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, an image of Will managed to burst into Cat's mind, along with the thought of what he would think were he to burst in there right now. For some reason, what she and Heath were doing felt wrong now; terribly wrong.

Shaking her head slowly, Cat murmured, "Stop…"

Still kissing her neck, Heath breathed faintly, "What?"

"Stop it…" she said louder, "I want you to stop."

"Don't be afraid Cat," he whispered, "I won't…hurt you…"

"No Heath, that's not what I mean," she said, now getting impatient. Bracing her hands against the front of his shoulders, she began to push them away, "I just don't want to do this, now stop."

But Heath wasn't stopping, "Don't push me away, Cat," he breathed against her cheek, "Let me make love to you…" He kissed her again, but Cat kept her mouth shut against his tongue, twisting her head back and forth, until she finally pried her lips free,

"No!" she ground out, still struggling against him, "Don't!" Balling her hands up into fists, she pushed up against his chest, "Did you hear me Heath? I said get _off_ of me!" Gathering up all of her strength, she gave a final shove and used her legs to push Heath off her body and off to the side.

For a long time, both of them lay where they were, panting heavily. Then finally, Cat sat up and dragged up a sheet from the floor, wrapping it around her body. Drawing up her knees, she leaned against the side of the bed, and placed a hand over her face, using the other to hold the sheet closed.

Heath balled his fist up and laid it against his forehead, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. At last, she heard him murmur emotionlessly, "I'm all ears."

Cat couldn't even look at him. "I don't know what happened," she muttered, "I just," She shook her head ashamedly, "Don't ask me to explain it."

"Explain it." She glanced over at him at the tone of his voice. It was cold and tight. He was staring up at the ceiling, his gaze matching his voice.

Cat felt her mouth fumbling for the right words, as she found herself trying to obey his command, "It just didn't seem…right anymore."

"It seemed right to me." He said swiftly, "More than right."

"Try and understand what I mean," she muttered, "If you would just try, you would get it. You would know why it wouldn't be right. You _do_ know."

Heath sighed frustratingly, "Your Dad?" he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes my _Dad_," she said emphatically, "He trusts us Heath, and he trusts you even more. With everything. Especially me."

"You're the one who's always so ready to hide something from him," he retorted, "What makes this any different?"

"I don't know!" she cried helplessly, "God Heath, I don't_ know_ what makes this any different, but something does, okay? It just does!" She waited another moment before adding, "Ellie knows, Heath."

He sat up on his elbows, and she noticed the change on his face as he stared at her, "How?" he asked quietly.

Cat shrugged, shaking her head, "I don't know. You know Ellie- she just knows stuff. And she's beginning to guess. About all of this. And I just know she's going to figure everything out soon."

He was quiet for a while, the muscle in his jaw twitching. Then he laid back down, staring at the ceiling 

again, "It doesn't matter." He said simply, "She won't say anything anyways."

"Yeah, how do you know that?" Cat asked impatiently.

"She won't." he said shortly. "I know her."

Something inside Cat incensed, and she snapped, "You know what Heath? You _don't _know everything. You _don't_ know everybody. Why don't you just stop acting like you do, and just-"

Heath had sat up at the sharp tone of her voice. Midway into her sentence, he had crawled over to where she sat, and grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her face close to his,

"Cat, you listen to me." He said firmly. She tried to struggle free, but his grip was like iron, and she realized that she was only getting loose when he wanted her to, "We're not going to ignore this forever, do you understand? I'm sick of this little game you keep playing with me, and it's gonna end soon."

"Let… _go_ of me!" she ground out between her teeth. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

But he only squeezed her arms tighter, making her grimace against the pain, "I love you Cat," he hissed roughly. The angry frown left her face and she let her mouth crack open a little bit. For a long moment, she really couldn't find a single word to say. "What do you mean…love?" she finally managed to murmur.

His face remained hard, but Cat saw Heath's eyes soften as he answered, "You know what I mean. I love you. Don't look so surprised at me, you've known it for a while," his voice gentled to a whisper, "Do you really think you're going to try and make me think you don't feel the same way?"

Cat's breath caught her in her throat and she shook her head, "No. This is crazy. You don't know what you're saying, Heath. You can't talk like this, not when Dad-"

"I care about your Dad, but I love _you_. I want you…and you want me. We both know you do." He leaned forward and kissed her again, prying open her mouth with the sheer force of his tongue. Cat only let him kiss her for a few seconds before wrenching her mouth free, even if her arms were still locked in place by his hands,

"No! Not if it means hurting my Dad, I don't!" she spat back, "Now you _let _go of me Heath, or so help me I will scream!"

She saw him clench his jaw tight, the air streaming in and out of his nostrils, but after a moment or two, his hands released her arms.

Jerking away from him, Cat staggered to her feet, tripping once or twice on the bed sheet. Starting to hurry towards the window, she stopped when her hand was on the sill and let her head drop to her chest, sighing wearily. Turning back around, she looked down at Heath who was looking back at her. The look in his eyes made something yank hard inside of her.

Shrugging miserably, Cat murmured, "What's the matter with us? Dad… Dad's the reason why we're even together. If he hadn't have brought you home… we never would have even have met."

Heath was silent for a long moment, then he looked away, at the floor. His voice was so quiet, she almost didn't hear it, "I know… I know that. It's just…What can I do, Cat? I love you. That's it. I do. I can't… change that. I don't want to… I love you."

She bit her lip hard, "I'm not asking you to change it. It's just… we just can't. We _can't._"

There was another long period of silence between the two of them, then Cat gave herself a firm shake, speaking more clearly, "I'm going to bed. I'm tired."

Turning around, she opened the window and started to go out without another word. But she was halted a final time when she heard Heath's voice call after her, also clear and calm,

"Someday…we will Cat. In spite of everything and anybody else… you know we will."

Cat didn't look back at him, gazing instead into the darkness outside the room. Her heart had started to pound again as the weight of his words sunk in. For a long moment, she lingered in the window sill, her mind traveling back to only a few minutes ago when she had felt Heath's body against her own- felt _all_ of him. A thought flashed in her mind of what it would feel like to feel him _inside_ of her-

She roughly shook herself free of the thought, and swung her legs over the window sill, scurrying over the small gap of flat roof between her and Heath's bedroom. She didn't bother to close the window back. She didn't want to risk looking at Heath in the face again; not when her own face was burning with the shame that came of her knowing what he had just said was undoubtedly true.


	17. Chapter 17: Unfortunate Truths

_A/N: I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far. Thanks especially to those who review and give me the feedback I so gratefully adore. I'll take a moment to throw in a disclaimer here again: I don't own Wuthering Heights or the characters in the novel. Some lucky person out there does, but it's not me. I'm just writing a little story with a premise and characters based on Emily Bronte's. So please don't sue me :) Read AND review, and I'll love your forever!!-Jess _

**Chapter Seventeen: Unfortunate Truths**

Cat started at the sound of the doorbell, and got up off her bed, turning down her stereo, listening to be sure. Ellie was at the store, and Heath and her dad were in the shop with Joe. When she heard the bell for the second time, she hurried out into the hall and down the stairs to the front door, swinging it open a moderate crack.

The man who stood on the porch was tall and middle aged, seeming to be around the same age as Cat's dad. His hair was mostly gray, but some streaks of gold still shined through on the crown of his head. His eyes were a gentle, clear blue. Clean shaven and well groomed, there was a kind smile on his face. As Cat looked him up and down, she also saw that his clothes were impeccably tailored, fitting him to perfection.

Giving a small frown, she asked, "Can I help you Mister?"

The man nodded, "Why yes you can Miss-?"

"Cat." She said simply, "No Miss though, just Cat."

He smiled warmly, "Alright Cat. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gregory Linton, and I'm here to talk to you, and your parents if possible about some of the new housing developments that I'm-"

At the sound of the name, Cat snapped to attention, "_You're_ Gregory Linton?"

He looked pleasantly surprised, "Yes I am. Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

"Oh my God, it's great!" she said, coming outside on the porch, "I've been reading about the mansions you're building on the old Fletcher warehouse land in the papers. I think it's incredible!"

Gregory gave a gracious bow of his head, "Well I am _very_ pleased to hear you say so, Cat. It's always a wonderful thing when an artist has someone realize his vision."

"Artists like you?" Cat asked.

He held up a hand humbly, "I like to think of myself as an artist, if I may. I only wish to bring a bit of beauty to the smaller towns of this country. Unfortunately, there aren't very many people in your town who are willing to accept what I offer."

Cat rolled her eyes, "That's because the people here don't want to do anything with their lives! They're so scared of change, they'll ruin it for the rest of us who actually want something better!"

He raised his eyebrow ruefully, "People like you?"

She cracked a smile, caught in the joke. "Yeah, people like me. I'm no country girl Mr. Linton. I want to move to a bigger, better pasture- like New York."

"Ah, old New York." He said, nodding. "The Big Apple."

"You ever been there?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he said breezily, "Many, many times before. I have a home there actually. It's quite a place. My children, Edgar and Isabella are there right now. They're both artists as well."

"You mean they're going around tearing up crummy pieces of land to build mansions too?" Cat asked wryly.

Gregory laughed, a light, clear sound. "No, not like me unfortunately. My son is into photography, and my daughter owns an art studio. She rents it out to new and upcoming artists."

"Really?" Cat asked, "There must be a lot of money in that."

"Actually, there is," he agreed, "It's quite profitable so long as you sponsor the right artists at the right time and advertise them to the right people. She has an eye for those sorts of those things. My son is the real starving artist. He's dabbled in just about every type of photography there is and still hasn't found his niche; freelance, still life, portrait, fashion, fine art-"

"So in other words," Cat interrupted, "_He_ doesn't have an eye for much of anything, does he?"  
Gregory laughed again, with more mirth this time, "I like your sense of humor, Cat! You're an amusing girl. I hope your family is as pleasant to be around as you are."

"Don't hold your breath." She said drily, "My dad's in the garage," she nodded towards The Heights, "D'you want to see him?"

He nodded, "Please. I think I have some information that he may be interested in hearing about."

"Come with me." She said, going down the porch steps and across the lawn toward the garage. As they passed the gravel driveway, Cat's eyes widened at the sight of the silver corvette parked nearby. "Is that your car?" she murmured faintly.

Nodding proudly, Gregory answered, "Yes ma'am she is. Pretty isn't she?"

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." She said, envy making her voice tight and short.

He must have noticed, for he nudged her shoulder lightly, saying simply, "Well if you're that keen on her, then I just may have to take you for a spin sometime. If you think she looks nice, you'd be swept off your feet by how she runs."

Cat stared at him stupidly, "You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head, "Never. As long as it's fine with your folks, we can go anytime you want to go, little lady."

"Wow," for moment, she was at a loss for words, "Thanks Mister… thanks a lot."

"Hey, don't mention it." He replied, "A beautiful girl needs to be seen in a beautiful car, right?"

Cat rolled her eyes at the compliment, and he laughed again. Opening the door to the office, Cat lead him past the front desk and into the garage, where she saw Heath and Joe working over an extracted engine. Heath looked up first, starting to give her a small smile, then saw Gregory at her side, and the smile faded into a confused frown. Joe looked up then, and came over quickly. Giving Cat a dark look, he then smiled nervously at Gregory, looking him over as he said, "Afternoon sir. Anythin' we can help ya with?" Before he could answer, Joe had went on, "I been meanin' to send in them tax forms, I just haven't got to em yet, but you can tell your people I will."

Cat could have crawled under a table and died from embarrassment. Gregory didn't seem very phased however, and put up his hand, "Not to fear sir, that won't be necessary. I'm here on a business of a different kind. Your daughter here was kind enough to-"

"Daughter?!" Joe burst out as he glared at Cat disgustedly, "She ain't mine, sir. God ain't that cruel to me."

A small frown creased Gregory's fine features, "Then you aren't… Mr. William Ernshawl?"

Cat intervened, "Oh God no, Mr. Linton. This is just a mechanic who works for my dad. He should be around here some-"

"Did I hear somebody say my name?" Will's booming voice rumbled as he strode over to where they stood. Reaching out his hand, he extended it to Gregory, smiling kindly, "I don't think we've met sir. Will Ernshawl. Pleased to meet you."

"Oh, likewise Mr. Ernshawl." He replied enthusiastically, "I've been here for near to two months and your name has been all I've heard from most of the folks around here. It seems you're quite popular with your neighbors."

Will gave a sheepish laugh, "Well, it seems you've got the advantage over me in that case Mister, cause I still don't have any idea who you are!"

"Of course, I apologize! Allow me to introduce myself properly: Gregory Linton, Mr. Ernshawl. I own a contracting company that has recently-"

Will nodded steadily, "Yeah I know all about it. Most folks 'round here do. I see you've already met my daughter Cat. This is Joe, my assistant mechanic, and Heath, my adopted son."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." He said politely, then turned back to Will, "Mr. Ernshawl, I'm here on official business to talk to you about some things I think you may be interested to hear."

Will shrugged, "Sure Mr. Linton. I'm all ears." When Gregory glanced self consciously at the others, he went on, "I don't keep no secrets from my family sir. Anything you wanna tell me, they'll be hearin it too."

"That's no problem Mr. Ernshawl," he assured, "In fact it may be better for your family to hear this as it stands to affect them as well. You see sir, I'm here to present you with an offer that has the potential to make you a very wealthy man."

Will's eyebrows rose slightly, "Go on."

"Well, to start off Mr. Ernshawl, I just want to let you know that this is one beautiful town, full of plenty and potential. I've been in this business of many years, and this town is one of the most promising I've ever seen. All it needs is to be unearthed."

"'Potential?'" Will repeated confusedly, "What do you mean by that? What's wrong with the town the way it is?"

"Oh nothing at all really, Mr. Ernshawl. That's why it was such a stroke of luck in my company finding this place when they did. It's nearly perfect for the kind of work I do. What I meant is that, as wonderful as it is, I only desire the means to make it better. As you have no doubt heard, we've purchased the old plot of land that used to belong to Vernon Fisher. We've started construction on it, our first project focusing on crafting a sort of community of mini mansions that will serve as vacation cottages for a number of clients that have already expressed interest in purchasing property here."

"You call those castles _cottages_?" Cat asked incredulously, "In what universe?"

Gregory smiled at her, "In a very real one Cat. One that is more than able to pay for those cottages."

"Mr. Linton, I'm afraid I don't understand." Will said, "I'm real happy for you in this venture, but what does it all have to do with me? Cause in case you're trying to drum up a new customer, let me tell you that I ain't got near enough to even make a down payment on one of them things."

Gregory gave him an understanding smile that almost seemed sympathetic, "I'm aware of that, Mr. Ernshawl."

Will's face changed, and he drew himself up stiffly, "Oh?"

"Yes, and that isn't why I'm here to see you either. My purpose is all together different. You see Mr. Ernshawl, my company isn't just interested in the plots of land that are up for sale. We're also interested in the ones that aren't…yet."

Will cocked his head to the side and stared at him queerly, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Gregory answered, "I'll just come straight to the point Mr. Ernshawl. My financial and real estate advisers tell me that this town is sitting on one of the biggest goldmines that my company has seen in a long time. The land is good, the scenery is perfect, and the clientele can't be anymore richer. In order to fully reap the uh… benefits that this town serves to offer us, we'll need to own quite a bit of the land here."

Will clenched his jaw tightly, "I see. And how much of the land are you interested in buying out Mr. Linton?"

He paused a moment, before replying quietly, "All of it."

"All of it?" Will exclaimed, "And what about the people of this town? What are they supposed to do when you come in here and kick them out with your tractors and equipment?"

"Well that's the thing Mr. Ernshawl," Gregory said, "Representatives from my company have made numerous trips to members of the community, making them financial offers on the purchasing of their land and homes. Not one family has agreed yet to our offers. As you can imagine, this puts us in a very difficult situation."

"Well that's just too bad Mr. Linton." Will said evenly, "If the people won't sell, they won't sell. I'm sorry to tell you that I'm joinin' them in their refusal. I suggest you look for another site to build your-"

"I'm not asking _you_ to sell _anything_ Mr. Ernshawl." Gregory replied.

Will frowned, "Then what-?"

"Please," he said smoothly, "Please just let me explain. As I said before Mr. Ernshawl, your reputation in this town is nearly indestructible. I haven't met one individual who hasn't had something good to say about you. You seem to be described a wise man, one who is able to show initiative, boldness and leadership in his community when others may not. From what I gather…people seem to listen to you. Your opinion has heavy weight with your peers. Surely you can understand why this bit of information would be… of interest to me."

Will's face slowly changed, realization coming over his features, "What do you really want from me Mister?"

Gregory smiled again, "I want you to talk to your neighbors Mr. Ernshawl. Talk to them, and convince them to sell their properties to my company. A man of your caliber and means of persuasion should be more than able to sway the minds of any skeptics. Convince them of the benefits of my offer, and why it would be to their utmost benefit to move away from here."

"Are you crazy?" Will snapped angrily, "Don't you see there _are_ no benefits for some in movin' away from here? Most of the people around here had kin livin' in their houses for generations, and you're expectin them to just pick up and move cause you dangle a dollar bill in their face? Most got no place to go, no guarantee of a steady job- what benefits am I supposed to tell them about?"

Gregory shrugged, "Alright then. If you can't tell of the benefits, you can elaborate on the details of the disadvantages they would experience should they choose to stay."

"There aren't no disadvantages to stayin in your own home, Mr. Linton!" Will said firmly, but Linton shook his head patiently,

"I'm afraid there are Mr. Ernshawl. The clients that I am presently servicing descend from an altogether different background than the one you, or your peers are accustomed to. These individuals happen to be accustomed to being surrounded by others who share their social and financial status. Those who are below that status quo are treated…somewhat less courteously than they could be."

"None of us are intimidated by a bunch of snobs, Mr. Linton." Will stated, "We've dealt with worse around here in rougher times."

Gregory sighed, "Mr. Ernshawl, please. I don't wish to make this difficult, for either party involved. I'm afraid that you don't quite understand what the implications of such an arrangement would be- not as well as you may think you do. My company is offering your neighbors a way to emerge financially benefited from this situation. The community that I just spoke of may not be so generous- or merciful in response to repeated refusals to evacuate."

"'Merciful'?" Joe yelled suddenly, "Evacuate? Just who the hell do you think you are, you son of a-"

"Joe, calm down." Will urged him quietly, then turned back to Linton, "Are you threatening me Mister? Is that what this is? Some kind of blackmail?"

"Hardly, Mr. Ernshawl." He answered, "This is a business proposition. As I said, I am in a position to make you a very wealthy man, if you only adhere to my requests. Should you succeed in convincing your neighbors to evac-uh, _relocate_ elsewhere, you and your family will be allowed to keep your land and house. What's more, you will have a 1.5 share in every sale that we make with your peers. Although it may sound small, allow me to assure you that it will reap immense financial benefits for you and your family."

"_Allow_ us to keep the house?" Will repeated, "What makes you think you have any control over that?"

"As I said Mr. Ernshawl, I only wish to alleviate any future difficulties you and your family would have if you were to remain here in financial circumstances that were less than acceptable to our coming clients. With the offer I'm making you right now, you would most likely be able to place a down payment on one of our houses, and live more comfortably than you do now. The real control actually rests within your own hands."

Will stared at him for a long time, then snorted, shaking his head incredulously, "Control? Control my ass. You people are nothing more than a bunch of crooks, out to sweep all us ordinary folk under the rug so that we don't dirty your clean, white sheets. Let me tell you something," standing up to his feet, Will pointed his finger at Linton, speaking emphatically, "I am an honest man. I have integrity, and honor, but most of all I have a heart. And I would rather see myself, and both of my children in Hell before I would _ever_ sell out myself, and my friends for money."

Cat stared at him helplessly, "Dad-" she started, but he cut her off without even looking back at her, "Stay outta this Cat, you hear me? Now you," he said to Linton coldly, "You get out of my shop. You get off my land. If I ever see you darken the doorway of my house again, then I will use any means necessary to get you out- legal or illegal, I will do it."

Gregory stood to his feet, the impatience just now beginning to break out across his face, "Mr. Ernshawl, please try and be reason-"

"Get out!" Will shouted, making everyone in the room jump, "Get OUT!"

Linton hesitated for a long moment, glaring at Will frustratingly, then glancing at Cat with less avarice. Giving her a short nod of his head, he turned and went out without another word.

Joe snorted after he'd gone, "And good riddance to 'im! Rich bastard!"

"I don't want either one of you speaking to that man again, you understand me?" Will said to Cat and Heath as he went back to work, "Nor any other Linton that comes 'round here. Stay away from 'em."

"But Dad," Cat said, coming to stand over him, "Maybe you should think more about what Greg- Mr. Linton was saying. He did have a point about a few things."

Will stared at her, shocked, "Have a point? Cat…what the hell's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," she said defensively, "But you can't deny what he said about there being problems when millionaires move here and have to mix with people like us. Maybe it would be better for everyone all around if you took up his-"

"'People like us?'" her father said strangely, standing up to his feet, "Is that what you're calling me? Heath? Ellie? That we're somehow different or below people that would sell their mother for a dollar? Just because we don't drive a Corvette, or have three vacation homes, now all of a sudden, we're-"

"Dad that's not what I-" she began.

But he cut her off, suddenly reaching out and grabbing her by the arm, jerking her to him roughly. Cat's heart lept in her throat, she couldn't remember the last time her dad had put his hands on her. And he was angry; furiously angry, "You better find something out real quick about people like that Cat," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "And that's that they don't give a damn about each other. Not one damn thing. They're only interested in one thing, and that's themselves. They'll use up whoever they can, for as long as they can, then they'll throw you away when you can't give any more. You're about as safe with them as you are in a lion's den, cause that's all that it is. A den of lies and liars. You wanna find out for yourself one day, you go ahead. Then you'll see what I meant, and how you're nothing more to them than a fly on the wall. They'll keep you around for a while, but eventually, they swat you dead."

Releasing her roughly, Will sat back down and started working again, this time putting more aggression into what he did.

"Dad-" Cat began again feebly, but he only waved his hand at her,

"Just go Cat. Go. I can't deal with you anymore right now."

She looked over at Heath, but he was looking down at the ground. So she turned and left without another word, feeling disappointed, and strangely ashamed of herself.

* * *

"He's really pissed at me, isn't he?" Cat asked Heath glumly. The two of them were sitting inside the cave, leaning against one of the stone walls. Chrissy sat in her lap, and she stroked her fur idly. From beside her, 

Heath shrugged and answered,

"His feelings are hurt, Cat. So's his pride. Really hurt. You know what this place means to him- to have someone come down here and say everything he's worked for isn't good enough… it's a lot for someone like your dad. He just got upset at you cause he wants you to love The Heights like he does. For you to want that kind of life- he thinks that you think he's not good enough for _you_."

"That isn't true." Cat said stubbornly.

"But that's what it is at the heart of it, isn't it Cat?" he asked her, "You have to admit that. You feel like this life isn't good enough for you- or else you wouldn't be trying to find another."

She gave an impatient sigh, "Well what's really so terrible about it, Heath? Is wanting a better life such a horrible thing? Is dreaming about being richer and happier so bad?"

Heath shrugged again, "Only if you think that they're the same thing."

"How do you know if they aren't? You've never been rich before." Cat retorted, "Maybe it makes people miserable to be poor!"

Heath answered calmly, "You're not poor Cat. You know that. Your dad may not be the richest guy on the planet, but he's always been able to take care of you just fine, which is more than you could say for some of the folks around here. You're better off than you think."

"I don't need you to lecture me!" she snapped, "I need you to try and understand me for once- just once Heath!"

Standing up to her feet, Cat tucked Chrissy under her arm and went toward the hole, Heath called after her,

"Cat, I do understand you. Cat!"

But she ignored him, climbing out the hole and starting to comb her way through the woods to get back home. The walk back was long and tedious, as Heath usually drove them to the cave now with his motorcycle. Cat had honestly expected him to come after her, but he didn't and she had to trek her way back on foot for the first time in months.

When she stepped inside the house, she noticed that it was quiet, which was unusual for an early evening; usually Will was watching television with Ellie at this time.

Setting Chrissy down on the floor, Cat called down the hall, "Dad? Ellie? Anybody here?"

There was on reply from the hall, living room or kitchen, so she started up the stairs. First looking in Ellie's room, she saw that it was empty. So Cat then went toward her Dad's room, as she approached it, she saw the light on from below the closed door. It was slightly cracked, and she heard a low humming voice from within. Lingering in the hall, Cat peeked in through the crack.

Ellie was sitting down on the edge of her dad's bed. Her hair was loose, and hung on her shoulders in thick, glossy hanks. It was the first time Cat had ever seen her hair out of the stern bun or braid. Ellie was holding Will's hand, and smiling gently as she hummed a slow tune. He was laying across the still made bed spread, sleeping. His face looked relaxed and at peace.

The picture was so innocent, and yet so intimate that Cat smiled gently. The look in Ellie's eyes made it so very clear: she was in love with him.

Cracking the door open wider, Cat called out softly, "Ellie-"

At the sound of her voice, Ellie whirled around and placed a finger to her lips quickly, shaking her head sternly. Looking back at Will, she gently extracted her hand from his, and laid it across his chest. Slowly rising up from the bed, she reached out and took a spare blanket from the foot of the bed, and spread it out across his body. Hesitating for a moment, she patted his hand, then turned around and went to the door, brushing past Cat and into the hallway without a word.

But Cat followed her, a smile on her face as they went down the stairs, "Well?" she asked expectantly.

Ellie's face was brisk and taut, "Well what?"

"Oh c'mon Ellie, you can tell me. It's not as if I don't know already. If you like Dad, all you have to is just-"

"You know what your problem is, Cat?" Ellie's voice was suddenly very sharp and defensive as they went into the kitchen, "You think that you see things as they are- that you have everything figured out." She began taking dishes out of the drying rack and stacking them in a cupboard, keeping her back to Cat, "The truth is, you don't know anything- nothing that you don't want to know anyway. You take all the good news, and leave all the bad!"

Cat stared at her, bewildered, "Ellie…what's wrong? What did I do now? I mean… you were sitting on his bed. I saw the way you looked at him. I see the way he looks at you. Me and Heath both see it. It wouldn't be a problem if you wanted to-"

"Cat," Ellie interrupted abruptly, "It isn't what you think it is. I mean- I do…but I-" she shook her head, "It's not for the reason you think."

"Ellie just tell me what's going on." She said, "If you tell me, then I can do something about it."

Ellie still hesitated, "He made me promise," she murmured, "_Promise_ not to tell you…"

Cat frowned, now feeling nervous. "Tell me." She said tentatively, "Tell me."

Setting down the cup in her hand, Ellie slowly turned around and folded her arms across her chest, "He's sick Cat." She said simply, but her face flinched as she said the words. "Sick."

Cat stared at her for a long moment. "His heart," she murmured faintly, "Is it his heart again?"

Ellie nodded numbly, "Yeah. His blood pressure's up too high. The heart's too big."

Cat shut her eyes, swallowing hard, "It's been so long," she said quietly, "So long since the last attack- not since I was thirteen…After that one, we thought we were okay….God…What happened?"

Ellie hesitated again, then left the room, walking down the hall. After a short while, she came back, a small envelope in her hands. Holding it out to Cat, she said, "This came two weeks ago."

Taking the envelope, Cat took out the slip of paper inside and quickly scanned the contents. What she read almost made her heart stop,

"…Regret to inform you that Private Ernshawl has been reported MIA…sympathize with you and your family…" She looked up, nearly stunned into silence, "Henry? Missing in action?"

Ellie nodded, "Your Dad's been trying to find out anything he can, but it just seems hopeless. No one he calls will tell him anything, and we haven't heard anything from them since that letter."

"So…they think he's dead?"

"That's what they think- but your Dad doesn't wanna believe it. He won't. He said, if Henry were dead he would know it. It's enough to break my heart to see him agonizin' after that boy. He's mad about him."

"They were never very close." Cat said stonily.

"Doesn't matter. He loves him. And he's putting everything he's got into trying to find him. He's tearing himself up with guilt, Cat. If Henry is dead…I don't know what'll happen to him."

"So you know about all of the stuff that happened?"

She nodded, "He told me. Needed someone to talk to about it."

"Why didn't he tell me, or Heath?" Cat asked frustratingly, "I'm his daughter. Henry's my brother."

Ellie tilted her neck to the side and raised her eyebrow pointedly, "He didn't want you to know. Said that it would only worry you. He was trying to protect you." There was something about the way that she said 'protect you' that made Cat flinch in wounded surprise.

"Ellie, I wish you would just tell me what I've done! I can't fix it if I don't know what you're even talking about!"

"Ellie went back to putting back the dishes, but answered her, her voice tight and unforgiving, "Your father loves you Cat. There isn't a damn thing that he wouldn't do for you, not one thing. Now I know that you're you. If you want to chase after your little rainbows and kiss up to those money grubbing Lintons, then I'm willing to look the other way. You're hurting your Dad more than you know when you do that, but I'll still look the other way. But there is one thing," she slammed the cabinet door shut and turned around, her face rock hard, "That I will _not_ stand by and let you do, and that's let him see what's going between you and Heath."

Cat answered as quickly and as convincingly as she could, "Ellie, nothing's going-"

"You must think I'm very stupid Cat." She replied, "Either very stupid, or very blind. I'm neither. I do know. I think I know more than you do. Instead of lying again, why don't you just admit it to me this time?"

Cat bit her lip and looked away, "It's not what you think." she said meekly.

"No," Ellie said, "No you're probably right about that. It's probably much worse than what I think. And you."

"Ellie, you have to believe me," Cat said stubbornly, "We haven't done anything. Really we haven't- it's just been little stuff -"

"I don't need to hear the details Cat." Ellie said stiffly, "The less I know the less I'm hiding from your father. You're the one with the problem. A big problem."

"It's not, a problem." Cat said, "I can handle it."

Ellie gave a short laugh, "You think so? You think you can handle this? Handle Heath?" She smiled almost cynically, "Do you think you're in love with him or something?"

Cat stared at her, silenced, and Ellie shook her head, "No. I didn't think so. But does he know that?"

"I've never told him I loved him." Cat said quietly.

"Actions speak louder than words for men, honey. And from what I understand, you've done enough to make Heath think something that isn't true."

"Look, I explained to Heath that nothing can happen between us, alright?" Cat said exasperatedly, "I told him that it would be betraying Dad. He understands, we agreed. That's it!"

Ellie was quiet for long moment, "Is it? I wish you could see this whole thing through my eyes, Cat. Then maybe you'd understand. You'd be able to see the way Heath looks at you- _always_ looks at you. He thinks no one's looking, but I am. I've had a feeling about this since I first started working here. And maybe I ignored it for a while because it was easier to do. But now… I can't ignore it anymore Cat."

"What do you mean by that?" Cat asked warily.

"What you and Heath do together is ultimately your business Cat. The two of you are both eighteen so you're technically grown up. I can't stop you from doing somethin' even if I think it's wrong. But you _are_ going to keep it private.

"Cat, your father is sick. Very sick. The doctor says that he can't take anymore stress if he doesn't want to get hospitalized again. He's got to be relaxed and happy. And if he finds out about this…it'll kill him. He wouldn't be able to take it. He loves you so much, you and Heath. But he still has no idea that the two of you are-" She shook her head, "And I'm not going to have him finding about it either. And neither are you, do you understand me?"

Cat nodded, "Yes Ellie." She said quietly.

Ellie sighed, placing her face in her hands for a moment. "Damn it Cat," she murmured, "I don't wanna be hard on you like this. I'm not trying to take your momma's place here. I hope you don't think I am, cause I'm not. I just…I care about all of you. I-I love you. Just like you was my own daughter. And I- I do care about your-" she broke off, her face pinking.

Cat came forward, cutting her off by wrapping her arms around her waist and laying her head on Ellie's chest, "It's okay, Ellie." She said gently, "I love you." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "And he loves you too."

Ellie held Cat to her closely, her hand stroking her hair. A small, choked laugh emitted from her lips. She used her free hand to quickly dash at her eyes, then kissed Cat's forehead.

"It'll be alright." Cat said, "I know it will."


	18. Chapter 18: Returns

_A/N: Hey guys, update time! So sorry that these are coming at longer time intervals, but schools back in and I'm just trying to get adjusted to the new semester and my job(s) (notice the 's' part of that) But I still make time to work on the story cause hey, I just love it that much. Read and review (cause I love to hear what you think) and thanks for stickin' with me and and my little story--Jess_

**Chapter Eighteen: Returns**

Cat went inside the doors of The Heights early the next morning. It was still early enough so that Joe wasn't there yet. Heath would be down in another few minutes, but she knew her Dad was in there by himself.

He was in the office, sitting at his messy, crowded desk, his back turned to her. For a minute Cat lingered in the doorway, feeling awkward and ashamed. Now that she knew that her father was sick, she even looked at him differently. Now he suddenly even looked ill to her.

How could she had not have noticed the weight he had lost so quickly, the way his clothes seemed to hang on him now? His skin had seemed to become a grayer tint. His posture was poorly hunched.

He looked so haggard…so old.

Cat suddenly sneezed, and he turned around in the chair. Seeing her, a bright smile creased his features, making the wrinkles in his face deepen.

"Well good morning Princess!" he said warmly, "What're you doing up so early?"

Cat didn't answer, going over to him and lowering herself onto his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tucked her head down and laid it across his face. "You haven't called me Princess since I was nine years old." She said softly.

Surprised at her action, Will encircled his arms about her waist, "I only stopped cause the last time I did it, you gave me hell. Remember? You said that you were nine years old, and names like that were for babies. From then nobody was only allowed to call you anything but Cat." He chuckled. "Boy, were you somethin'!"

Cat asked, "What made you say it now?"

He shrugged, "I guess cause you still are my baby, Cat. My little princess baby. It's been hard seeing you as anything else, even though Ellie keeps tellin' me you're grown now. To me… you're still my little Princess."

Cat felt her eyes getting hot and gritty. Her throat was closing up. She hugged Will closer and kissed his cheek, "I love you Daddy." She whispered, "I love you."

He laughed softly, "Hey, what's this all about?" Drawing back, he tipped her chin up, his voice playfully stern "You getting ready to cry? Huh?"

Cat smiled shakily and shook her head, "No sir."

"Good." He said, "None of that sappy stuff 'round here, you hear me little lady? Hear me?" he tickled her underarms briefly, making her laugh harder.

Smiling at her, Will sweeped her braid back over her shoulder, and tapped the tip of her nose gently, then winked once.

His face suddenly contorted and his left hand went out to grasp at his right wrist.

"Dad?" Cat asked in alarm, "Are you alright?"

Will bit his lip, then paused for a moment, then nodded with a tight smile, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine Cat."

"Dad, are you getting an attack? Are you?" she asked.

The smile left his face, "What makes you say that?" he asked, his voice changing, "Who've you been talking to?"

Cat remembered Ellie's saying that Will had made her promise not to tell her, and thought quick, "No one." She assured, "I just remembered the last time it happened, that's all. When I was younger. It started with this and I just got scared."

Will's face relaxed, and he shook his head, "Aw, don't worry. This is nothing but that damn arthritis. Other than that, your old Dad's as fit as a fiddle!" He laughed again, then scooted her off his lap, "Matter of fact, I don't know what's the matter with me. I gotta get ready to open up shop!"

Cat followed him into the garage, trying to choose her words carefully, "Look Dad," she said cautiously, "Maybe you should think about easing up a little bit. I think you're working yourself too hard. If you asked them, Joe or Heath would help you out."

He replied, "What're you talking about, Cat? I'm fine. Sides, Joe's older than me. And I can't put anymore work on Heath- he's too busy with that painting. Speaking of which, how's it going? He almost done with it yet? I'm real excited to see it."

_No you're not Dad, _she thought, butshrugged, "Yeah almost. It may be a little while though. And then, Heath's being real secretive about it. I don't even think he's going to let me see it when it's done."

"Oh I'm sure I'll be able to convince him to give in." Will assured her, "Heath's too hard on himself as an artist. You gotta let people see the work of your hands, else it don't have a purpose. Art should never be private. It's a public thing, isn't it?"

Cat nodded numbly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm real proud of him." He said, "He's a good boy. A hard worker- never a word of complaint about anything."

"He never does." She agreed.

"And I'm proud of you, Cat." He said, "For taking to him so quickly like you did. I know now that what I did was a little unfair to you all, and I can't say how much it means to me that you were willing to trust me and befriend Heath. I think you're the real reason he's happy here."

"Don't give me too much credit." Cat said feebly, "I drive Heath crazy most of the time."

"Yeah, I know that but-ah!"

Looking up sharply, Cat saw that Will had keeled over, his hand clutching his chest as his face twisted in pain.

"Dad!" she cried out, going to him as he fell to his knees, panting for breath, "Dad! Speak to me! Is it your heart?"

Looking up at her, he slowly nodded, then groaned as another spasm wracked his chest, "Ahhh!"

Cat's heart was hammering and she struggled to maintain control, "Dad! Dad, come with me. I'm calling an ambulance, we're going to the hospital."

Will shook his head, "No…" he wheezed, "Just get Ellie. Go get Ellie…Go!"

"But I can't leave you here!" she said desperately, "You might die!"

"I'll… be...fine." he gasped, "Just go…find Ellie…"

Cat hesitated for another moment, then realized that time was of the essence, and rose to her feet, slowly backing away, afraid of turning her back on him. "I'll be right back Dad," she promised, "Just hold on!"

Will used his free hand to wave at her, "Go! Go on!"

Nodding, Cat whirled around and ran out of the shop, sprinting towards the house, "Ellie!" she screamed as loudly as she could, "_Ellie!"_

* * *

The three of them sat in the waiting room. No one spoke. It was quiet.

Cat and Heath were sitting on the sofa together, Cat huddled into Heath's chest as she frantically bit her nails. Her heart was hammering wildly and she stared into space. Heath's arm around her shoulder was very little comfort, as was the long gap of time that had transpired since the nurse had shown them to this room.

Ellie was pacing the floor swiftly, her hands folded across her mouth in prayer stance. Her eyes were swollen and wide. Her voice was muffled, but Cat could still make out what she was saying,

"Please God…please…oh God please…"

The sight of her made Cat want to burst into tears, _She really does love him, doesn't she? _She thought to herself bleakly.

The door to the waiting room opened and a man in scrubs entered the room. Everyone shot forward, Ellie speaking first,

"Is he alright? Is he alive?"

The man nodded, "Yes. He's alive and on a machine right now. He's come around to consciousness and is asking for you all."

They all breathed sighs of relief, Ellie's a small, tight sob. The cardiologist continued,

"The attack was a small one, but based on the symptoms you described to me, as well as Mr. Ernshawl's past history, I would guess that he could at any moment suffer a larger one that may prove lethal. We've given him medications and will also write him a prescription, but my best advice would be to keep him under close monitor here, where we would be able to prevent that."

"Dad hates hospitals." Cat stated flatly, "The only way you'll get him to stay is if you chain him to the bed."

Sighing heavily, the doctor nodded, "So we found out when we made our recommendation to Mr. Ernshawl. He's very adamant about leaving. Today as a matter of fact. And seeing as he is a grown man, there's very little we can do to stop him."

"Well what about his heart?" Ellie asked anxiously, "If he does leave, will he die?"

The doctor made a grimace of consideration and shrugged, "It's not definite either way. His situation is precarious, but there is the possibility of a recovery. However, he must be kept away from all things that would aggravate the heart. This includes a significant change in diet, a reprieve on all physical work or strain of any kind, and a strict avoidance of all stressful circumstances. Although some minimal walking is encouraged- just make sure he doesn't push his limits. Make him happy and peaceful."

"Isn't there anything else that can be done?" Cat asked, "There's got to be something more you can do than just give him some pills."

The cardiologist sighed again, "An open heart surgery would give your father a better chance of avoiding another heart attack, but he's refused to this as well."

Cat was incredulous, "Well than talk him _out_ of it!"

Ellie put a hand on her arm, "It's not that simple, Cat. There's also price." Turning back to the doctor, she asked, "How much are talking here for a surgery? Based on your personal guess."

He paused, thinking, then answered, "From everything, to the procedure to the equipment, to the anesthesiologist to the nurses and the room for recovery, I'd estimate…somewhere near twenty five thousand dollars."

Ellie put her head in her hands and groaned softly. Cat stared at the doctor, stunned. Heath said quietly, "Now we know why he refused it."

"The proper insurance policy usually covers a good deal of the costs of these sorts of things Mrs. Ernshawl," the cardiologist began, but Ellie cut him off.

"I'm not…I'm not his wife. And Will…he got a little tied up about paying on the policy over the last few months. Things got a little hard and…now…now I don't think insurance is an option."

He nodded solemenly, "I see. I'm… very sorry to hear that."

Cat asked, "Can we see him now?" She didn't want to hear anymore about insurance policies and sickness. She just wanted to see her dad.

The doctor nodded, "Of course you can. Please, allow me to take you myself."

Will looked frail and ashen in the hospital bed. His eyes were closed and his mouth cracked open as his chest moved up and down heavily. From inside his hospital gown and from his wrists came numerous cords and tubes, all hooked up to intimidating machines positioned beside the bed.

As they went in, the doctor lingered in the doorway, folding his hands in front of him, "Don't worry," he said, "He's just sleeping. That's probably the medication working on him. But he'll wake up just fine if you tap him. Let me know if you need anything."

Ellie turned to him, "Thank you Doctor. For everything."

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The three of them gathered around the bed; Ellie on one side of Will, Cat on the other, while Heath stood at his feet.

Reaching down, Cat gently took up her father's hand and stroked it gently, whispering, "Dad? Dad, wake up. It's me, Cat."

Will's eyes cracked open into small slits at first, then eased open fully. He searched her face for a moment, then smiled, "Hey Princess!" he whispered.

Cat smiled back at him, her eyes feeling wet, "Yeah," she said encouragingly, "It's me. Me, Ellie, Heath- we're all here for you."

Will's gaze shifted from her to around the bed at Heath and Ellie. Ellie shook her head at him ruefully, her eyes shining with moisture,

"Damn you Will. What're you trying to do? Give _me_ a heart attack? Why'd you go and scare me like that?"

He grinned at her and shrugged, "I was in the mood for a good laugh."

They all chuckled at the joke, but Cat shook her finger at him seriously, "Well no more laughs- at least not ones like that. We want you around for a long time."

Will pshawed breezily, "I'm not going anywhere. You all see when we get home. Everything'll be back to normal 'fore long, right?"

"Wrong!" Ellie said sternly, "Everything's gonna change when we get home. No more drinking, no more salty foods, and no more working- least for a while."

"Oh c'mon Ellie," he said dismissively, "Take it easy-"

"No, that's what _you're_ going to do." She said, her voice firm. "I'm going to make sure you do just what the doctor says Will Ernshawl. I won't have you dying on me and leaving these children without their father, you hear?"

Will smiled sheepishly at Heath, "You gonna help me out at all son? Why don't you tell Mrs. Worry Wart here how much you and Joe need me in the shop."

But Heath shook his head, smiling gently, "Can't do it sir. Ellie's right. You gotta rest. Me and Joe'll manage just fine- you know that."

"Don't worry, he'll do what he's told." Ellie said confidently, "Unless he wants to stay here and have the doctors and nurses breathin' down his neck."

Will shook his head fiercely, "No siree! I'm ready to get outta this hell hole!"

"See?" she said to them, "He'll obey just fine, won't you Will?"

Cat's dad moaned begrudgingly, "Alright, alright! Ain't as if I got a choice in all this."

"No," Cat said swiftly, "You sure don't."

* * *

Cat sat in front of her father's chair, reading aloud from the book in her lap,

"I have been acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked-"

Will grunted and gently nudged her back with his foot, "Cat what in hell is this?"

She smiled up at him, "It's poetry Dad." Folding the cover of the book back, she read out, "'_The Complete Collection of Works by Robert Frost_.' You don't like it?"

He shook his head gruffly, "I would like that tv set to be on so I could be catching the score of the game!"

Cat shook her head ruefully, "Sorry Dad. You know what Ellie said. She wants you to stop watching so much TV. Somehow she thinks that hearing poetry will keep you more relaxed. I think she's trying to make you a little bit more cultured!"

"I don't wanna be cultured, I just want to be healthy!" Will said impatiently, "C'mon Cat- you hate this stuff just as much as I do: can't you make life a little bit easier on your old Dad?"

She exchanged smiles with Heath, who was sitting on the sofa, a book of his own in his lap. He gave her a short nod and she replied, "Alright, alright. But one more poem first- Heath why don't you read this one?"

"Make it a good one Heath," Will urged, "No more sad ones this time!"

Heath nodded and flipped through a few of the pages, then paused, clearing his throat before he began, "'She Walks in Beauty,' by George Gordon, Lord Byron… She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies…"

Heath continued to read aloud, his voice clear and fluid in tone. Cat found herself hanging on every word of the poem, and was surprised when she looked up and saw her dad equally engrossed in it as well. Heath's voice was as smooth as water, and there was a subtle but present emotion in his voice that was intriguing,

"And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!" He finished and looked up from the page, his eyes meeting with Cat's. A soft smile curled his lips and she couldn't help but return it. Their gazes locked, and held for a long while- longer than they realized.

Will was looking between the two of them slowly, back and forth. A confused, bewildered frown had begun to crease his brow.

A few hours later the two of them stood over his chair, watching him as he slept. Cat smiled and laid a blanket over him gently.

Heath asked, "You don't want to help him upstairs?"

"Mmhm," she shook her head, "He looks so peaceful there. I don't wanna disturb him. He's fine here."

"Okay," he replied, "I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed. How about you?"

Cat shrugged, "Tired, but not sleepy. I think I'll stay here a while longer. Ellie's okay?"

"She went to bed a long time ago. She's been real tired lately." He answered. "You sure you'll be okay?"

She nodded, "Course I will. Go on and get some sleep."

She felt him linger behind her for a moment, and turned her neck around to see him. Cat felt that familiar, twisting lurch in her belly at the look in his eyes- that look she recognized from the night in his room.

"W-what?" she whispered softly. Heath didn't answer, his fingers just barely touching the sides of her waist. Then, he blinked, and the look was gone again. "Nothing," he murmured back, then reached out and smoothed back some of her hair behind her ear, smiling softly, "'Night."

Tense, Cat nodded again, then waited until she heard the back door shut to shiver from his touch, her eyes closing as she exhaled deeply. Sinking onto the sofa, she curled her legs up and under her, cuddling up against the arm rest. For a long time she laid in silence, her mind full of thoughts.

Since that night in Heath's bedroom, things had been different between them- not so much that it was noticeable to anyone else, but the change was unmistakable to Cat. She knew that it was unmistakable to Heath as well. Just now, when she'd looked into his eyes, she'd seen an unmistakable indicator that he knew that thigs between them were different. She didn't know what he felt like it was. For her, it was like there was this empty space of something between the two of them- an empty space that was full of so many things; unspoken words, the memory of what had happened, the unanswered question of whether or not it would ever happen again, all combining together to bring about this change in their relationship. It wasn't that they didn't have the same fun that they had before- they did, and lots of it. Cat was still Cat and Heath was still Heath. But Cat and Heath _together_ had become different. Now whenever they touched one another, Cat found herself thinking about that night. Whenever she took off her clothes to shower and caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she remembered it. She thought about what Ellie said time and time again, _"You'd be able to see the way Heath looks at you- always looks at you…" _ Now, Cat did find herself trying to see if Heath was always looking at her in that way when no one else was watching. And when she discovered that it was true- that he did- it made her feel all the more conflicted about the situation.

He never talked about It. What they had done (or rather didn't do in his room that night), or what he had said to her then, _"I love you…"_

The way he acted, Cat almost would have thought she had imagined the whole thing. But she hadn't. She knew she hadn't. He had said it. He had meant it- she'd seen that in his eyes. But Heath didn't have to talk about it or even bring it up. She knew he knew that she thought about it- just like he knew that she knew that he did as well. There was such a look of patience in his eyes whenever he looked at her in That Way. Cat found it weird that such an emotion would accompany that kind of look. She would have thought it would be the opposite, but it wasn't. He almost looked as though he were waiting for something- something that he knew was coming, something he didn't mind waiting for, even though his desire for it was clearly evident. And that was what bewildered Cat the most about the whole thing: that Heath seemed to be entirely comfortable with the change in their relationship, and not only that, but he was waiting for something else to occur in it. She remembered what else he had said to her that night, after he had told her he loved her, "_Someday…we will Cat. In spite of everything and anybody else… you know we will…."_

Cat shook her head hard, trying to push the thoughts aside to the back of her mind. She didn't want to think about that right now. Not now…

Soon, her eyes began to droop, and she dozed off.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but Cat stirred to the feeling that someone was standing over her. The room was dim, and she was only semi conscious, but the figure was tall and broad. At first she thought it was her Dad, but a quick glance at his chair eliminated that possibility. Her second thought was that it was Heath, but Heath had long hair, and the person standing before had hair that was cropped very short. As her eyes began to focus, she also noticed that he was wearing baggy, camouflaged colored pants and jacket. They reminded her of a military uniform-

Cat bolted up straight, her heart racing. As she did, she heard the figure chuckle softly, and suddenly there was no doubt in her mind as to his identity.

"Oh my God," she breathed, "Henry…"

He nodded, smiling that old, cynical grin, "Hey there Cat… the Prodigal Son has returned!"


	19. Chapter 19: Bittersweet Homecoming

_A/N: Your humble author here again to update again folks! Henry's back (I know, to all of our chagrin XD), but it had to be done to keep the plot I have planned going. Hope you enjoy the update. I'd also like to take an opportunity to thank all my reviewers out there, (especially YouDon'tKnow555). I really, really REALLY appreciate it:) Thanks for your reads and feedback--Jess _

**Chapter Nineteen: Bittersweet Homecoming  
**

Cat stared up at her brother in shock, taking in the details of his face that had been locked in her memory for so long.

It had changed. Henry's face had once been smooth and thin. Now it was craggy and shadowed, and it now had a leanness to it that almost made him look ill and sickly. His eyes were what had changed the most; where once there had been only sarcasm and mischief, there was now nothing; only a shell of hardness to cover the hollow inside the depths of his eyes. They glittered like the blackest of onyx.

"You're back," she said stupidly, "After all this time, you're finally back."

Henry laughed gently, "Well don't look so happy to see me little sister! I can only take so many hugs and kisses!"

Cat shook her head, "What- what happened? They told Dad you were missing in action. Where were you?"

Henry stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head, waving his hand breezily, "Don't worry about it…wouldn't wanna give you nightmares tonight, now would I? The point is that I'm back- and better than ever!" he laughed again, but Cat didn't like his laugh. It was mean and strained. "Say, isn't it past your bedtime Cat?"

Cat nodded to the chair, "I was watching over him."

Henry turned and saw Will sleeping in the chair. His face changed and he knelt down to look into his father's face.

"Do you know yet?" Cat asked simply.

He nodded, "They told me about it at the bar." He said softly. "Is- Is he really bad?"

"He could die if he has another attack, if that's what you're asking." She replied, "He's been really stressed out. With the shop, and this Linton business."

"Linton who?"

"He's a contractor and developer. He wants to sell out the whole town and make it a place for tourists. And he wants Dad to help- in exchange for money, and we would get to stay here."

Henry looked back at her and shrugged, "So why won't Dad do it?"

Cat shook her head, "Did you really have to ask that, Henry? You know Dad."

Henry clenched his jaw, "Same old good guy Dad!" he said tightly. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Don't talk to him about it." Cat said swiftly, "The doctor said that he doesn't need any stress. It'll only upset him if you try and change his mind."

"Don't worry," he said, "I won't even mention it. You're right- I do know Dad, he'd get himself blue in the face with all his talk of honor and home and shit. I've had enough of that, so you can keep your panties on." He paused, then grinned at her wickedly, "Speaking of which- where's old Heath? Didn't think I'd ever see one of you without the other. Did he skip out?"

Cat glared at him, "He's in his room. And don't you dare do anything stupid Henry. Remember what I said: we have to keep Dad relaxed, and we both know how he feels about Heath, so leave him alone."

Henry chuckled and Cat cringed at the grating sound of it, "Still protectin' him, aren't you Cat? Boy do I wonder what's all happened since I been gone! You two probably haven't missed me a bit."

"Just shut up alright?" she snapped, "You don't know what you're even talking about."

"So you still don't want to kiss and tell Cat?" he asked sardonically, rising to his feet to stand by the window. "That's alright. If I really wanted to find something out, I would. For now, that topic bores me." He was quiet for a while longer, then murmured, "I got married Cat."

Cat couldn't help but laugh in disbelief, "Marry? You? That's funny Henry- really funny."

"Maybe it is, but it's true too." He said simply, "As true as the ball and chain attached to my ankle."

Cat looked down at his left hand and saw a gold band on his ring finger, "Oh my God," she said, "You _are _telling the truth."

"Yep." He said, "Tomorrow you all can officially welcome Mrs. Henry Ernshawl into to the family- the former Mrs. Francis Lewis who was stationed on my base in Kuwait. We met my second week there, and it must have been that desert heat or something but eventually we just couldn't keep our hands off each other. You know me Cat, I'm not the marrying type. But Francie's a little old fashioned, and she wanted to 'live right,' so before I know it, I'm standing in front of a preacher putting a ring on her finger. And well…the rest as they say's history."

"Where is she?" Cat asked, "Why didn't you just bring her here with you?"

"She's at the inn in town." He said simply, "I wanted a little alone time with my family before I broke the ice about her. Like I said: I know Dad. He wouldn't understand if I just brought her here all of a sudden, especially with his heart problem. I need to tell him first. The right way."

"How considerate of you." Cat said drily, Do you love her?"

Henry smiled at her, "Only you would ask a question like that Cat. That's alright though. Not that you'd believe me, but yeah- I think I do. She's quite a girl. Nothing like you."

Cat rolled her eyes, "Naturally." She got up from the couch, "If you're going to stay down here with Dad, I'm going to go to bed. I'm too tired to play with you anymore."

He shrugged, "Be my guest. Sleep tight little sister."

Cat left the room and walked down the hall toward the stairs, then remembered that she left her robe in the living room. Going back she started to go in again, then stopped short.

Henry was leaned over Will's chair, his hand resting gently on his father's shoulder. The smallest bit of softness had entered his eyes. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to Will's forehead, then touched his own forehead to his dad's, keeping it there.

Cat watched for a moment, then turned back around and crept back toward the stairs, deciding to go without the robe that night.

* * *

Will was overjoyed to see Henry, and to Cat's surprise, he didn't even try to hide it. Henry's face had flinched when his father threw his arms around him, holding him tight, but eventually, his own arms managed to frigidly return the gesture.

Henry was suspicious, but polite upon meeting Ellie. The look he exchanged with Cat was filled with questions, and she knew he was wondering if Ellie had taken their mother's place. She didn't want to give him any cause for alarm, and decided to just explain about it later.

The reunion between Heath and Henry was abrupt and awkward, consisting of no words and barely one glance from across the room as Henry entered the Heights to see Joe again, and saw Heath working on a car. Cat had stood from behind her brother in the doorway and practically held her breath, waiting for the gauntlet to be thrown, but none was, or had been…as of yet.

Two days after his return, Henry broke the news about his wife to his father. Will had been stunned at first, then to Cat's surprise, very courteous, asking to meet her as soon as possible. That same evening, he did.

Francine Lewis, or Francie as she asked to be called, was a very beautiful woman. Her hair was curly and ruddy, spilling out in abundance around her face and shoulders. Her radiant smile complemented her playful green eyes and mouth. From the minute she'd climbed off Henry's motorcycle, she'd lit up any room she was in with her charm and wit. She was skilled at conversation, flattery and warmth. Within minutes she had already convinced Will that she was meant for Henry, and completely sold him on the idea of having her for a daughter in law. Cat liked her, but didn't understand how her brother had been able to get a sunny, attractive woman like Francie to even date him, much less marry him. They couldn't have seemed more different to her. But as the days went by, she saw how Francie's steadiness complemented Henry's sarcasm, how she was able to suppress his smart remarks with only a few words. And in looking at him look at her, Cat began to believe that Henry was in love with his wife.

In fact, she was almost beginning to be convinced that he couldn't live without her.

* * *

"C'mon Dad!" Cat called, "It's time for your night walk." She and Heath came into the living room where Ellie, Henry and Francie were sitting on the sofa. They were wrapped in light jackets and scarves, as the beginnings of fall had made it chilly out. In Cat's hands were her Dad's hat, coat and scarf, ready to put on.

Will sat hunched and sullen in his chair, a frown creasing his brow. Upon seeing the outer garments, he waved his hand at them dismissively, "Put em away I don't feel like goin today."

Cat and Ellie both protested at once,

"Dad, c'mon. You said that yesterday-"

"Will, you can't keep makin up excuses-"

Kneeling down beside his chair, Cat tried again, "C'mon Dad. The doctor says you need to at least do a little exercise, and walking's the best kind. It'll only be a half an hour tonight, I promise."

"I don't feel like going." He said stonily, "Not tonight. And not tomorrow either."

"Will, stop being so stubborn." Ellie said, putting down her knitting, "You know these children just want what's best for you-"

"Stop talkin to me like I'm some kind of child!" he said irritably, "I'm a grown man, I can decide for myself when or when I'm not going to leave my own house!"

Francie said brightly, "Oh c'mon Daddy. It won't be so bad. A little fresh air never hurt anyone."

"I'm tired…" he said, "I'm tired of walkin', I'm tired of the pills… All I want to do is just get some rest…"

"Dad the cardiologist said it was important that you take your medication, and you can rest after we take the walk," Cat said, her voice starting to rise. She exchanged glances with Heath and he gave her a small, assuring nod, kneeling down on Will's other side. She felt herself becoming a little relieved. If neither she nor Ellie could talk sense into her father, then Heath was the only one who could.

He placed his hand on Will's arm, "C'mon sir," he said gently, "It's really beautiful out. The leaves are starting to change colors now. The willow tree in the field's changing into a warm yellow. The forest is a sea of red and orange. The apple tree's got ripe apples now. If you come, you can get them right off the branch, just like you like them. And Ellie will make apple pie too. The breeze is just right, so you won't get too cold. And you always said that fall was your favorite-"

"Why don't you just get out of my damn face?" Will suddenly snapped. Yanking his arm away from Heath, he said, "If you're so taken with all of it, why don't you and Cat just go off by yourselves like you always do? Don't tell anyone where you're going, don't tell anyone when you'll be back, just go. Or go paint some more of those little pictures of yours. Paint a picture, don't tell me anything about it and just use up more of my money on those damn supplies. Do whatever you want, but go. Go and leave me the hell alone!"

Everyone was quiet, shocked into silence, but Cat most of all. She stared at her father in horror.

Since the day that he'd got there, she'd never heard him speak to Heath that way. Will had never even been angry at him- he'd had no reason to be. He had no reason to be angry at him now.

Heath was gazing at Will in a wistful kind of way. He slowly rose to his feet and backed away towards Cat, passively folding his arms across his chest.

The room was completely silent for a long moment, then to Cat's surprise, she saw Henry get up from his seat and come over to her father's chair. She braced herself for the storm she knew was coming.

"What are you getting' mad for now, hmm?" Henry asked Will, his voice bored, but calm, "Don't you know we all just want to see you get better? This is just what the doc ordered."

Will snorted irritably, "Don't you start bossin' me around now either, you hear me?"

Henry shook his head, "No one's bossin you around Dad."

"Then let me make my own choices!" he said, his voice raising to a shout.

Henry nodded now, raising up his hands in defeat, "Alright, alright fine. You're a big man, you make the decisions. But you wanna know what'll happen if you stop taking the pills? If you don't exercise? Let me tell you Dad: you're going to have another heart attack. Another heart attack, then it's back to the hospital. Is that what you want? Hmm? You wanna leave us when we need you? When we're working our asses off to make sure you get better? Huh?"

Will didn't answer, chewing the bottom of his lip.

Henry leaned forward into his face, "I didn't keep my ass alive in Kuwait for you to throw yours away on something like heart failure. Now c'mon… let's go on that walk. I'll go with you. It'll be over before you know it." He straightened, and held out a hand to him, "Yeah?"

Will hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised his arm and grasped Henry's hand, allowing him to help him to his feet.

As he did, Henry looked at Ellie, "Will you get his pills for me?"

Ellie was staring at him, surprise written on her face. At the question, she slowly nodded, "Yeah… give me a minute." Getting up from her seat, she hurried into the kitchen to get the medicine.

"Baby, I think I'll come too." Francie said, "A little walk'll do me good. Just wait for me to get my things." She went out into the hall and up the stairs.

"I've gotta pee." Will said gruffly, "Give me a minute."

"Sure thing Pop," Henry said, "You need any he-"

Will made a disgusted sound and shook off his arm, "Ugh! I'm not senile, boy! I can still take a piss on my own!"

Henry chuckled lightly, "Yeah I bet Dad." As Will walked toward the bathroom, he called, "Take your time, alright?"

He looked over at Cat and Heath who were still standing by the wall. Henry came up to Cat and took the outer wear out of her hands with a short smile, "I'll just take these for you, Cat."

Cat glared at him, "Be my guest!" she said tightly.

Henry was smiling at Heath cynically, "Can't win em all can we Mr. Rogers? Sometimes it takes more than just that Hallmark shit to bring a man to his senses- sometimes all it takes is just straight talk."

"And what would you know about that Henry?" Cat said hotly. Heath didn't answer, only staring at Henry with that blank, unreadable look in his eyes.

Henry smiled at her flippantly and shrugged, "Guess I must know something about it, don't I Cat? Something you and Bob Ross here don't know about. And you know what?" he patted her cheek hard, "Maybe you two better stay behind from the nature walk. I get the feeling it would just make things harder for Dad if you were there. He seemed pretty pissed at you both just now, and we do wanna keep his stress level down and all, don't we?" He laughed as Cat slapped his hand away and walked out of the room, his chuckles echoing off the walls of the hall, "Have a good night!"

Cat was breathing hard out of her nostrils, "Smug son of a bitch!" she muttered, "He runs away to the army for two years after Mom dies, leaving us to pick up the pieces. Now just because he gets Dad to take a walk, he thinks he's doing something great!"

"Don't let it get to you." Heath said briskly. "Try not to get so upset."

"And how can you not be?!" Cat cried, "You know what he's doing don't you? He's going to try to turn Dad against us, I just know he is."

"Nothing could ever turn your Dad against you Cat." Heath said, "Nothing."

"Yeah? Did you hear him just now?" she asked, "It's like he was a different person, I've never seen my Dad act like that- especially not with you!"

"It wasn't him, Cat," he said calmly, "It was the meds talking. Meds and wounded pride. Ever since the doctor's forbidden your Dad to work in the shop anymore, he's been real low. I don't have to explain to you why, you understand better than me. The Heights is everything to your Dad- and now it's being taken away from him."

"Okay fine, I understand that." She said, "But why did he get so mad at us when we've just been helping him all this time?"

"Just for that reason." Heath said, "Do you remember that day when we shopping with your Dad and he said that he would always be there to take care of us?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well he's not anymore Cat. He's not. Now we're taking care of him. And that hurts him. Bad."

Cat stared up at him uncertainly, "So… you think that's all it is? That's he's just ashamed, and doesn't-" she broke off.

Heath frowned, "Doesn't what?"

Cat lowered her voice and averted her eyes to the floor, "Doesn't know about…you know…"

He shook his head slowly, "No. No he doesn't know about that."

"But what if he does," she whispered anxiously, "I think Henry's guessed Heath. What if Henry tells him-"

"Don't," he said swiftly, "Don't get yourself upset like this. Look at me Cat. Your brother wouldn't say anything even if he did know. He knows what it would do to your Dad. And he doesn't want that. So everything's going to be alright."

Cat leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace and exhaled deeply, "I want to believe that," she murmured, "I _have_ to believe it..."

* * *


	20. Chapter 20: Do You Really Want to Know?

**Chapter Twenty: Do You Really Want To Know?**

Cat sat in the willow tree, huddled up against the trunk against the chilly wind of the night. Chrissy sat in her lap and she stroked the fur on the cat's back idly. She was alone tonight, Heath was still working on a car with Joe in the shop, but she'd had to get out of the house anyway.

Her dad's temper was worsening, and Henry was only adding fuel to the fire with his "aid" that he gave him, while also pointing her and Heath's flaws. These days Cat felt like her help wasn't even needed anymore, and rather than sulk in a corner, she decided to just leave the house and spend some time on her own to think.

"Hey hon!" A voice from below startled her. Looking down, Cat saw Francie approaching the willow tree, a shawl thrown over her shoulders and smiled on her face.

Relaxing back into her bored expression, Cat leaned against the tree again, calling back a flat, "Hi."

"I noticed you'd left a while ago and decided to come and see if you were alright."

Cat eyed her suspiciously "_You_ decided to come and see if I was alright?"

Francie paused, then nodded her head in admission, "Okay, so Heath asked me to come and see if you were alright. But even if he hadn't, I still would have come. I've been worried about you."

Cat shrugged, "Well, I'm fine, aren't I? I come out here all the time, and I'm fine."

Francie shook her head, "That's not what I mean." She flexed her neck, "Are you gonna make me get a crick in my neck looking up at you, or are you gonna give me a hand up there?"

Cat sighed and set Chrissy aside. Reaching down her hand, she helped Francie get her footing up to one of the branches, and watched her climb her way up to where she sat. As she settled down, Francie sighed with a smile, "Well! I haven't done that in a while. What? You didn't know I could climb a tree?"

Cat shrugged, picking Chrissy back up "I guess I'm not too surprised."

"That's a pretty cat." Francie said, "She looks expensive."

"She wasn't." Cat replied, "She was a gift."

"I see." She nodded, then was quiet for a while, looking out onto the horizon. Finally she said, "I think I know what's bothering you, Cat."

"I don't think so." Cat said shortly, "Not really you don't."

"I could guess," she offered, "I know that this whole business with your father is really getting to you. Please don't let it. You have to know how much he loves you. More than anything."

Cat shrugged again, "Whatever."

"No, not 'whatever'!" Francie protested, "It's the truth, and you know it's the truth. There's nothing that will change how much your father loves you."

"Nothing but your husband!" Cat suddenly blurted out. She wished she could take it back, but now it was too late. To her surprise, Francie didn't look angry. There was almost understanding in her eyes.

Her sister in law put her hand on Cat's shoulder and rubbed it gently, "Hey," she said, "It's okay. I figured you were thinking that too."

Cat shook her head sullenly, "He's so childish!" she muttered, "Just because Dad's never really been close to him- and now that's he's sick Henry wants to manipulate him into hating me and Heath. When we were the real ones who've been taking care of him all this time! God, I hate him!"

"Well he loves you." Francie said softly, "Very much."

Cat laughed bitterly, "Yeah, right!"

"Uh, uh. It's true. When we were back in Kuwait, he kept a picture of you on the wall by his bunk bed- one of you and one of your parents. Henry's a softie at heart- he just doesn't like to show it."

"What about Heath? Don't you try and tell me that Henry secretly loves him, I won't believe it."

Francie shook her head admittedly, "No. You're right about that one. Henry's very jealous of Heath. He does hate him. If he you feel like he's hurting you, don't. It's meant for Heath. All of it." She looked away and was quiet for a minute, then said, "Cat, I should tell you something. I haven't told Ellie because I think it may frighten her, and I don't dare tell your dad."

"What is it?" Cat asked anxiously.

"When Henry went MIA, no one knew where he was for days. Him and a few members of his platoon went on a troop assessment mission, and never came back. Finally, we found out that they were taken to a prison. Somewhere in the desert. Everyone on the base feared it, because of the things we heard were done to the POW's. Horrible things."

Cat stared at her, "And those things were done to Henry."

"He won't ever talk to me about it." She said "Ever. We don't…mention it."

"Was he tortured?"

Francie winced, but nodded, "Yeah…he was. I wasn't even allowed to go see him when they were first freed. No one was. I had to wait a week. But a week… wasn't enough."

"What happened?"

"I- I almost didn't' know him. They'd…they'd broken him Cat. Completely. He was just shell; battered, and broken. What those bastards did…it's a miracle he's still alive." She quickly wiped at her eyes and sniffed briskly.

"Do you think he still thinks about it?" Cat asked.

Francie nodded, "I know he does. He remembers it in his sleep. Relives it all over again. I hear him talking, mumbling and crying, and I know he's dreaming about the whole thing. He'll never get over it. Never be the same."

Cat looked down into her lap, feeling helpless and stunned, "Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

Francie sighed, "He and his platoon members were ordered to see the base psychiatrist, talk to him for a while. The psych told me that Henry had a severe case of PTSD. Probably worse than all the others. And that it would probably affect his behavior for the rest of his life."

"Affect his behavior how? What does that mean?"

"He said the symptoms could vary. Sometimes Henry might be alright, almost normal. And then, sometimes he…wouldn't be. In the days back on the base, I started to understand what he meant. When Henry would get…mean."

"He's never been very nice-" Cat began, but Francie cut her off,

"No! No, you don't understand. I'm talking _mean _Cat. Just…plain cruel. Brutal. He got into an argument with one of the other guys on base, and before anyone knew it they were throwing punches. It took three MP's to get Henry off the poor guy. Blood was everywhere. It wasn't the fight that scared me- if you ask me men oughta fight every once in a while- it was the way Henry acted about it. He saw how bad the other guy was…and he laughed. Just laughed at him. Like he enjoyed it. It was… strange. After that, everyone seemed to avoid Henry, keep their distance. And I knew that they were scared of him- scared of what had happened to him in that prison, to his mind."

"Are you saying that Henry's crazy?" Cat asked, "That he's lost his mind?"

Francie shook her head, "I don't think that. I don't want to think that. Henry stopped seeing the psychiatrist, and in the next few days our whole unit was sent back home, so I decided to try and forget it. But I wouldn't feeI right if I didn't tell someone from his family what's happened to him."

"There has to be something that can be done to help him, isn't there?" Cat asked, "Some kind of meds-"

"He won't take them." She said simply, "Flushed the whole bottle of pills right down the toilet. I've tried talking him out of it, but it's no use."

"Do you think we're in danger? That he may hurt someone?"

Francie glanced at her cautiously, "He wouldn't hurt your dad, or Ellie. And not you either. You're all safe."

"Then what-" Cat began, then stopped short, her mouth falling open a little. "Heath." She said quietly, "You think he may do something to hurt Heath."

Francie nodded, "If given a reason, I think he will. Cat…I think he _wants_ a reason to get at Heath. Just one, no matter how small is all it would take."

"He already has one." Cat said stonily "More than one. And they aren't small."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Cat told her about Henry's trying to bribe Greg Beals and the misunderstanding about Tina. When she finished, Francie covered her eyes with her hand, "God, it's worse than I thought…" she murmured.

"Right before he left, he told me that one day he would kill Heath for taking everything away from him. I didn't believe him then, I thought he was just upset about Mom's death. But now-"

"Now is different." Francie said, "I can tell you for sure Cat, now he means it. If given the chance he will. You have to try and keep that from happening."

"Me?!" Cat sputtered, "What can_ I_ do about it?!"

Francie's face changed, "You know Cat," she said, "You can trust me. You should know that. You _can_ trust me. Anything you don't want told, I won't tell."

Cat stared at her warily, "You think there's something going on with me and Heath."

"Honey, I may have only been here for about a month, but I'm not blind. I'm sorry if you were trying to keep it a secret."

Cat waved her hand at her, "Don't bother. Ellie guessed a long time ago. The only person now who doesn't know is Dad."

"And a good thing for that." Francie said firmly, "Cat, he can't ever know."

"You think I don't know that?" Cat asked frustratingly, "I would never let him find out."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"I've seen the way Heath looks at you. I'm pretty sure he's in all the way. But I don't see the same look in your eyes when you're looking at him. Does that mean something?"

Cat sighed exasperatedly and looked away, "Do I have to talk about this right now?" she asked quietly.

Francie patted her hand, "No. Of course you don't. I think I understand…" she paused, a small smile playing at her lips, "But for the record…I think he's real cute."

Cat snapped her head back around to look at her, "_Heath_?" she repeated.

Francie nodded, "Sure. Give a year or two, clean him up a little bit, and he may give you a run for your money- even as pretty as you are. What, don't tell me you don't think he's good looking?"

Cat gave a small laugh, "I, I don't know! I never thought about it that way. I mean Heath's, he's always just been…_Heath_. I…I guess he's a little cute."

Francie smiled at her, "Just a little. Besides all that, he's a good boy. A little quiet, but real decent. I like him."

"Most people do." Cat said. "Thanks Francie. For telling me…about Henry."

Francie's face softened, "You had a right to know. Besides, I figured you were strong enough to take it real well. And I was right. I like you too, Cat. A lot. You're a very brave, beautiful girl. You should know that."

Cat felt the heat flood her face, "Thanks." She mumbled.

"I better be getting back to the house." Francie said, "Henry'll be wondering where I am. You coming with me?"

"No, I wanna stay out a little longer. To watch her go down." Cat said, nodding to the sun.

"Okay then. "I guess I can tell Heath you're just fine then. See you later honey." Francie leaned forward and kissed Cat's temple, then jumped down to the ground and began walking back toward the house.

Cat watched her go a few steps, then suddenly called out, "Hey Francie!"

She turned back around and walked a little back toward the tree, "Yeah?"

"You really think Heath loves me?" Cat asked.

Francie smiled up at her and nodded, "Oh yeah." She answered, "I'm positive about that one." She blew her a kiss and started off again.

Cat leaned back against the tree and stroked Chrissy's fur. "I don't know what I feel for him Chrissy," she murmured, "I just don't know."

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Cat had just walked into Will's room that afternoon looking for Ellie, but instead had come across Henry. He was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, and from the looks of it had been there for quite some time; all around him were scattered papers, files, and folders that kept getting tossed aside as he rifled through them as if he was searching for something.

When he heard her question, Henry looked up and smirked, "Just looking after the family interests, little sis!"

"By family interests of course you mean your own, right?" She asked wryly, then crossed her arms and demanded, "C'mon Henry, what are you doing going through Dad's stuff? You know he always kept those papers put up for reason, some of it's really important. We're talking the deed to the Heights and the house, tax forms, bills—"

"Life insurance policy?" Henry cut in suggestively, grinning as he held up a piece of paper.

Cat walked over to him, snatching the piece of paper out of his hand, "That's not funny, Henry. Just get out."

But Henry only shook his head and laughed, continuing to go through the papers as he said, "You know, Cat, sometimes I just don't get you."

She snorted, "'Sometimes?' Try never, now what are you talking about?"

"Well you'd think that since you've been going on and on about how you'd do just about anything to get the hell outta here, you'd be doing just about anything to find a way to do it."

"What's your point?"

Henry rifled through the papers for a few more moments before he finally picked up a newspaper clipping, waving it as he asked, "Do you know if Dad ever read this all the way through?"

"I don't know, what is it?" She asked, taking it from him and skimmed it briefly. It was an article taken out of a newspaper from the years before about the Linton housing development. Shrugging, Cat said, "Well he had it in his files, didn't he? What difference does it make?"

Henry laughed again, "Well if he had, then he might have read at the end where it tells us hokies a little bit about this Linton guy. Did you know Gregory Linton is one of the richest men in the entire country?"

"No, why would I know that?"

"Well, I've been doing my homework today and apparently the guy dad refused to help out is worth a cool 300 million…"He smiled, an acidic chuckle coming from his throat as he muttered, "That dumb son of a bitch…"

"Don't talk about Dad that way." Cat interjected lowly, but on the inside was still trying to recover from the shock of having learned the news herself. She'd heard Gregory Linton was rich, but she'd had no idea he was _that_ rich…

"What else can you say he is, Cat? Think about it long and hard for a second and you tell me Dad wasn't the stupidest bastard alive for turning down Linton's offer."

"He turned it down because it was wrong, Henry. If Dad had said yes, he would have been selling out, not just himself but everyone else out here."

"To hell with everyone else out here, Cat!" Henry yelled suddenly, his face now seriously irritated. "To hell with 'em, d'you hear me? Is every one else gonna pay for Dad's medical bills? For the light and water bills? His prescriptions? Huh? Tell me who's gonna pay for that!"

"Look I don't know who's gonna pay for them, okay?" Cat retorted in frustration. "I don't know, but I do know that Dad did the right thing. And to hell with you, if you don't think so! Since when do you care about how Dad and the rest of us survive anyway, Henry?"

Throwing down the papers he was holding, Henry shot back, "Since I found out this morning that Dad owes 50 grand on this place, Cat!"

Cat felt her stomach turn and felt the color drain from her face as she replied, "What did you say?"

"You heard what the hell I said; Dad's broke. He's been broke for a while now and he hasn't said a word about it to anyone, not to you, or Ellie or Joe or even that son of bitch Heath. _That's_ probably what gave him a heart attack, the fact that any day the IRS can come bang on the door and take away everything he's got--strip the underwear right off his ass if they want to!"

Shaking her head, she murmured, "That's not true, Henry…stop making things up, it's not true."

"Oh it's true, all right, Cat," Henry laughed harshly. "You can look at these loan and bank bills if you don't believe it! D'you know Mom's funeral isn't even completely paid for? Dad got everything—even the damn coffin she's buried in--on credit."

"That's impossible, Heath and me made the arrangements, the funeral directors said everything was all taken care of."

"What they obviously _didn't_ say was that the credit card you gave them to use to pay for everything had been maxed out—on some very valuable art supplies, it seems! Nope, the only reason why our Mom didn't just get thrown into a hole in the ground is because Dad's made such a name for himself in the neighborhood. The funeral directors just figured they'd give him some time to get it together, then send him the bill later." Here Henry held up a piece of paper, reading it out aloud, "Well 'later' was apparently 1 and half years ago…and the grand total comes to a whopping 5,000!" Cat gasped, but Henry only went on, picking up various sheets of paper as he exclaimed sarcastically, "But wait, it gets even better! Take for instance the 10,000 we owe the hospital, the 3,150 we owe the pharmacy, the 1,000 we owe on utilities, and that's not even anywhere near as much money we owe in interest on all that stuff—"

"Stop it!" Cat cried, putting her hands over her ears as if to shut out the sound and thought of Henry's words. "Shut up! Just shut the hell up, Henry, shut the hell up or I swear I'll…I'll—"

Henry snorted, "You won't do anything, Cat. You won't do anything because you haven't been doing anything for Dad, you never have."

Her hand lashed out and cracked against his cheek as she hissed, "Don't you _ever_ say that to me again, Henry Ernshawl, do you hear me? I've done more for Dad than a good-for-nothing bastard like you ever could!"

But Henry only grinned at her slap and continued as if she hadn't spoken at all, "If you'd really done something for Dad then you would have made him accept Gregory Linton's offer, you would have _begged_ him to."

"Well how the hell was I supposed to know we owed all that money?!"

"You didn't, you didn't even consider it because all you ever think about are your movie stars and that gutter rat. That's the only world you live in, Cat, completely detached from reality. Well, I'm not, and now that I'm home there's gonna be some changes in how this family handles the money—starting with the Linton deal!"

"Oh yeah, and how're you gonna do that, Henry? What are you so dumb that you already forgot that Dad's still alive?"

Henry shook his head, "Oh I haven't forgot for a second, sissy! But something you seem to be forgetting is that ol' Dad's about to kick the can."

Cat's heart skipped a beat at his words, a short exhalation of breath escaping her lips sharply, "Dad's _not_ going to die, Henry," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Don't joke around about something like that!"

"It's no joke, and you know it, Cat. Dad's knockin on' death's door, and when he cashes out, I'm cashin' in before Linton withdraws his offer. I'm not gonna make the same dumb mistake you did and end up stuck with a bill for 5 grand when we go to pay for his funeral—I got my own expenses to worry about. I'm gonna sign, seal, and deliver this place to Linton, and get as many of the neighbors to throw their hats in with me so that by the time I'm done I'll be swimming in a pool of Franklins!"

"And just what makes you think any of our neighbors are going to listen to _you?"_

"Oh they'll listen, they'll listen and do whatever the hell I tell 'em to if they ever want to get the money Dad owes them—or did he forget to tell you about those loans too?" When Cat shut her eyes with a groan, Henry smiled in satisfaction, "Yeah…yeah I thought so."

But she tried to protest one more time, "There's no way I'm letting you get away with this, Henry. You're not gonna sell Dad's Heights, d'you hear me?"

"And how d'you plan on stopping me?"

"I'll go find him right now and tell him everything you just said—just see if I don't!"

"No you won't Cat," Henry laughed scornfully. "Not when I'll be right behind you telling him about that little picture Heath did of you naked as the day you were born!"

Cat's heart skipped another beat, and for a long moment, she just stared at her brother in silent, stunned horror. Her voice shook as she murmured, "How do you know about that?"

Henry shrugged, "You know, pretty interesting guy, Joe is. I never really realized it until coming back. He may not talk a lot, but when you give him enough reason to with a Jackson…whoo, does he say what he knows and what he's seen—and he's seen a lot more than that…_way _more."

Parting her lips, Cat began in a small cracked voice, "Henry—"

"Here's how it's going to go, Cat," He cut in swiftly, the cynical, triumphant smirk still on his face, "You're going to keep that little mouth of yours shut about this little conversation we just had, or I'm not gonna be able to keep mine shut about you and Picasso, got it?"

Shaking her head, Cat whispered shakily, "Henry don't…don't do this. If you told Dad about me and Heath it'd kill him…you know it would."

Henry didn't say anything for a long moment, and for a minute Cat thought she'd convinced him by a change that seemed to come over his face. But it was gone in another instant when he stood up and came to stand before her. Leaning down, he muttered in her ear, "And that's why you're gonna do every damn thing I say…isn't it?" When she nodded numbly, he nodded and smiled wider, patting her cheek before leaving, "Good kittie."


	21. Chapter 21: He's Gone

_A/N: Hey wonderful readers and reviewers that make my day! Jess here, after a far too long absence, with an update for you all. It's not as long as I would like it to be or as long as the ones you're probably used to having, but it's a necessary chapter, so hopefully that helps to balance it out. Keep reading and of course reviewing, because that keeps me going and motivated to keep updating in spite of all the RL craziness that occurs nonstop. Thanks guys:)-- Jess_

_P.S.: I don't own Wuthering Heights, or any of the characters in it. Emily Bronte created them. So that makes her pretty lucky. And someone else owns them. That makes them VERY lucky. It just makes me an admiring fan who remains in awe of her genius._

**Chapter Twenty One: He's Gone**

Cat felt the sickening sense of déjà vu as she and Heath sat next to each other in the hospital waiting room. It was just like the scene all that time ago when they'd waited for this for news of her mother—only this time Ellie and Francie were with them…and it was news about her father they were waiting for.

Will had went into cardiac arrest earlier that day, it had happened suddenly and completely without warning. Cat didn't have time to prepare herself for it, all she remembered was that one minute she'd been sitting with Heath in the back yard and the next after hearing Ellie shriek, she'd been watching paramedics wheel Will into ambulance on a gurney. No one exactly knew how it had happened; Ellie had been in the Heights with Joe discussing a part that needed to come in, and Francie had been at the grocery store. Henry had claimed that even though he'd been with Will at the time, he had no idea how another attack could have hit him.

Cat didn't believe him though.

Now as she sat in the sofa across from her brother, Cat felt a mixture of both anger and trepidation as she looked at him. Henry may have looked tired like the rest of them from having sat in the waiting room for so many hours, but he also looked calm…_too_ calm. As if what was happening wasn't a surprise or shock to him whatsoever. Memories of their conversation in their Dad's room the previous week came back for a terrifying moment, but in order to keep herself from going crazy with fear, Cat pushed them aside. Henry wouldn't have dared…not even _he_ was that cruel…

_Besides, we had a deal…_ Cat rationalized with herself as she clenched and unclenched the palms on her knees. By holding up her side of the bargain, she'd expected Henry to hold up his and not mention a word or hint of anything between her and Heath, and up until that point is seemed as if he had.

But Will had also seemed to be doing much better in the last few days, far beyond having another heart attack at the very least. If Henry saying something to him hadn't been what had caused this, then what was?

Thankfully, she didn't have the chance to contemplate this, for Dr. Beauford walked into the room, taking off a face mask that had been tied across his mouth as he sighed and said in greeting, "Miss Ellie…Cat…Heath,"

Ellie stood up, arms crossed tightly as she said in a tone that tried to stay steady, "Chris…give it to me straight, now. How is he?"

Dr. Beauford looked down for a moment in hesitation, then replied, "Not uh…not so good, Miss Ellie. The attack Will suffered this time made him go into what we call v-tach—we had to use electric resuscitators to bring him back 3 times on the operating table."

"But--but he _is_ back, isn't he?" Cat asked fearfully. "You _did_ manage to bring him back?"

"Yes, we did, Cat, but…the trauma your father suffered was quite severe." Here the doctor stopped, sighing heavily before finishing in a low murmur, "We have Will hooked up to an IV machine now…but I doubt the fluids will be enough to help him last the night."

Ellie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to hold in a choked sob as she sank down to the sofa and into Francie's arms. Cat felt tears immediately sting the back of her eyes, but refused to let them fall. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she asked in a low whisper, "Can I go in and see him?"

"He probably won't be coherent, but yes, I don't see why not. Follow me."

When the two of them entered the room, Cat stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she saw her father lying in the bed.

He looked so weak…as if he really _was_ going to die. All the color was drained from his face, his chest rose and fell in tiny, hardly-visible movements, and a strained expression furrowed his brow, making it look like he was in a great deal of pain. The sight almost robbed her of her courage to go to him. Almost.

Coming to kneel beside his bed, Cat was quiet for a long moment, then reached out and took his limp hand in hers, bringing it to her lips and kissing it softly, "Oh Dad…"

The whisper was so soft it was almost inaudible, "Cat…"

Instantly looking up, she saw Will's eyes open in a slit just wide enough to look at her. Attempting to smile, Cat murmured back, "Yeah Dad, it's me…Cat."

Will looked at her for a long moment, before Cat finally felt his hand begin to shift in hers…almost as if he was trying to pull it away. This only made her tighten her grip on it, asking in bewilderment, "Dad wait, what is it? What's wrong, are you in pain?"

Will stopped trying to pull away, but groaned softly and murmured, "Henry…"

"Henry's outside in the waiting room, Dad," Cat began, but was cut off when her father continued,

"You…you and…Heath…lied…Henry…this…morning…"

Cat felt her heart drop. As she looked down at her father she felt like she wanted to die. Even though his eyes were only open in slits, she couldn't remember a time when he'd ever looked at her like that. With so much accusation…condemnation…disappointment.

Shaking her head, Cat began, "Whatever Henry said…whatever he did—" she broke off, her throat beginning to get tighter and tighter as her voice trembled. She was finding it hard to breathe, "It's not true Dad. I swear. I_ swear_ it's not true." The lie came off her tongue with ease, but the guilt she felt inside was wrenching.

This time she actually did feel a grip in Will's fingers, a small one, but it was there nonetheless as he whispered, "No…" and then, a single, solitary tear drifted down his cheek and fell onto the pillow beneath him, "No more…lies…"

At that, Cat's face cracked and she sighed raggedly, feeling the tears burning her eyes now,"Dad… I'm sorry," She pleaded, "I'm so sorry…I didn't mean it…things between me and Heath just happened. I didn't want you to know because I was afraid that—" But she stopped in midsentence when Will's eyes fluttered then rolled back into his head. Next the machine he was hooked up to began to beep, making her look up at it in panic. When she saw a flat line begin to take the place of the slopes, Cat yelled, "Dr. Beauford! Dr. Beauford, come in here, quick!"

The doctor came rushing in with two other nurses with him, pushing a cart with what she assumed to be the resuscitation paddles, but when he placed two fingers against Will's throat to check for a pulse, Dr. Beauford sighed and shook his head, muttering slowly as he looked at the clock, "Time of death; 20:13."

_No…oh God, no…_ Shaking her head in disbelief, Cat whispered, "No, no he's not gone yet…he can't be gone…"

"I'm sorry Cat…so sorry." He said sympathetically.

But Cat would hear none of it. Now letting the tears welling in her eyes fall onto her cheeks, she began to cry, "No, no Dad you can't go…not when I didn't say good_bye_…" Her voice broke into a miniature sob and her face crumpled. Shutting her eyes tightly, Cat threw herself beside Will's body, her arms hugging his shoulders as she sobbed, "Dad…! Daddy don't go…I love you, Daddy! _Daddy!_ "

She felt the pressure of hands on her back and shoulder and waved her arm at them to push them away, "No!" she moaned, still crying, "Just go away- leave me alone!" But the hands only stroked up and down her back soothingly and she raised her head up to look. Heath's face was sad and shadowed as he looked down at her and Will's body in the bed. At the sight of him, Cat took hold of his hand and tugged on it hard, "Heath, get them back in here! Tell them to do something, to save him! Don't let him die!"

But Heath was already shaking his head slowly, his emerald eyes filled with sympathy and tenderness, "He's gone, Cat." He answered softly, "He's gone."

Shutting her eyes as another wave of disbelieving anguish washed over her, Cat let out another sob and let her head fall into her hands as she began weeping again, her shoulders moving up and down. In another instant, she felt a weight press upon the bed as Heath sat down beside her, and in the next moment, felt his arms hugging her frame to him, her head resting against his chest as his chin nestled on top of her head.

He said nothing more, but he held her tightly- so very tightly against him, rocking her back and forth slowly as she cried.

For a long time she continued to cry against Heath, her mind racing with a million thoughts but all ending up asking the same question;

Why?

Why did have to have happened so fast, so unexpectantly? Even though she'd known Will was sick, somehow Cat had always imagined that it would eventually turn out fine. She'd never guessed in a million years that like her mother, her father would end up leaving her too. And all because of Henry's big fat mouth—

Henry.

Cat's sobs immediately subsided when she remembered what Will had said only a few minutes ago; _Henry…this morning…_ It only took a split second for her to put two and two together: Henry had finally told Will about her and Heath. He'd told him and that had been what made him have a heart attack.

Suddenly the tears in her eyes were dry, the helplessness she felt while being held by Heath was replaced with a lividness, a surge of rage and anger that she'd never felt before. Pulling away without a word, Cat bolted from the room and ran down the hallway, ignoring Heath's calls after her as she rushed towards the waiting room. Bursting through the double doors, she saw that while Ellie and Francie were crying with Dr. Beauford on one couch, Henry was now sitting in conversation with a man in a suit that she'd never seen before. But she didn't care about him; all Cat could focus on right now was one thing: Henry.

Walking towards him slowly, she murmured, "You bastard…you sick, twisted bastard…"

Henry looked up at her, but only replied with a cool stare, one that contained a hidden, knowing smile in his eyes. It made Cat want to tear him apart.

"How could you, Henry?" She asked hoarsely as she continued walking towards him. "How _could_ you?" When he still made no reply, Cat lashed out and slapped him as hard as she could, "_Answer_ me, dammit! How could you do that to Dad?!" Here she lost all control of herself; after slapping him again with her other hand, Cat literally pounced on her brother, and began beating on Henry with clenched fists, not caring where the blows landed, so long as they felt strong enough to hurt. "You killed him…you killed him, you son of a _bitch_!" she shrieked, her voice ragged with tears, "How could you kill him…_how could you_…?! Murderer! _You murderer_!" She sobbed wildly, ignoring Ellie and Francie's attempts to pull her off of him. Heath came into the room and rushed over to her, his hands closing around her arms and pulling her away from Henry. Cat fought against even him, but his grip was amazingly strong; almost like a vice. He pinned her arms to her sides, making it almost impossible for her to make them budge. Weary with her grief, Cat let her head fall down to her chest as she began to weep again, shaking it back and forth. She felt Heath's grip on her arms relax and she raised her hands to her face, covering it as she cried. For a long time, no one said anything, the only sound in the room being Cat's tears and Francie's sniffles. Then, Ellie finally spoke, her voice heavy with panting and sobs of her own, "What in the hell's gotten into you, Cat?"

Cat raised her face up from her hands, her faced blotchy and flushed, her eyes flaming, "Tell them, Henry!" She yelled brokenly. "You tell them what you did to Dad!"

Henry didn't reply for a long moment, but finally looked up at her, a light suggestive gleam in his eyes as he replied, "Well I don't know, Cat…I think the right way to put it is what _you_ did to Dad…don't you think so, Heath?"

Heath didn't answer, but Cat felt a new surge of rage shoot through her, making her try and charge Henry again with an angry shriek, this time aiming towards his throat. Her hands had just closed around it when Heath pulled her back again, this time pinning her arms down with his own again, despite her vigorous protests.

When he was sure she wouldn't try to attack him again, Henry stood up, cleared his throat and gestured to the man in the suit, "Well, now that we've got that under control, lemme introduce you all to someone; Mr. Edenton, a family lawyer. He's here to talk about Dad's will—the three of us made a few…'changes' to it this morning…"

* * *

Henry had gotten everything.

The Heights, the house, the land, everything. Everything Cat had thought all these years would go to Heath had ended up going to Henry after all.

Immediately after they'd held Will's funeral, Edenton, the lawyer Henry had hired, had gathered all of them back at the house for the reading of Will Ernshawl's last will and testament. Looking back on it now, Cat could still remember the shock she'd felt when she'd heard him read the unbelievable words;

_I William H. Ernshawl, being of a sound mind and judgment, hereby pass all of my belongings, property, and assets on to my biological son Henry William Ernshawl…_

Cat didn't know which had hurt more; knowing that after all he had put the family through Henry was going to get everything he wanted anyway, or seeing the look on Heath's face when Edenton had finished reading the short will.

His expression had been completely stone.

The will had went on to say that the only way Henry could have everything was if he provided for Cat and Ellie for the rest of their lives, but as far as Cat was concerned it meant absolutely nothing. For some reason, the fact that her dad had made sure her and Ellie were taken care of wasn't good enough—not when he'd made no mention of Heath whatsoever.

How could he have been so cruel to him? How, when for the past several years he'd been a son to him in every way possible besides by blood? So what if Henry had told him about her and Heath? If he was going to take it out on anyone, Will should have taken it out on her, but not Heath. Anyone but Heath.

But apparently Heath had been the only one he'd taken his blame out on, and Cat was almost positive Henry had had something to do with that too.

Henry. Just the thought of him these days was enough to make her want to vomit. Francie had been right that day in the tree; Henry wasn't the same man he'd been before the war. The old Henry might have hated Heath, but he would have never used it as an excuse to bring pain to his dad. It soon became apparent to Cat that this new Henry hadn't cared in the slightest. He'd told Will about her and Heath knowing it would kill him…and he hadn't cared; he'd _wanted_ him to die so he could get everything he owned to use for his own benefit. This Cat found out by Henry's immediate telephoning of Gregory Linton after the funeral, telling him that they'd changed their minds about his offer and would begin talking to their neighbors as soon as possible about moving. By saying them, though, he'd really meant himself, using the money Gregory had wired him for his 'cooperation' as bribery for several of their neighbors to pull up stakes and leave. By the time he'd convinced 5 families, Cat stopped trying to secretly convince them not to move on her own, as she'd known Will would have wanted her to do. Instead, like Ellie and Heath had done since Will had died, she retreated into her own world and simply lived from day to day without a care for anything. All of them were on the whole the same; empty and devoid of any real feeling.

Through all of this Francie had also retreated into her own world. Even though it was obvious she still loved Henry, she was unable to hide her displeasure at what he was doing. When she'd first tried to correct him however, he'd told her to "shut up and mind her own business if she knew what was good for her", so since then Francie had remained as silent against Henry's wrong-doings as the rest of them. Cat didn't blame her for it though, she knew that at heart Francie was a good woman, and like her had no control over what Will had given Henry the power to do.

Cat would never fully get over her father's death. That was something that she was absolutely convinced of. It wasn't just his being gone that hurt her so badly (which was bad enough in itself). It was that he had died because of something that she had done, even if Henry had been the one to tell him. He had died being angry at her, pained that she had deceived him. She'd stolen his love for Heath away too. She knew that that was something that her father must have taken hardest of all. Heath had been the son he wished Henry was- his favorite, even above Cat. He'd put so much store by Heath- and that was ruined by the relationship that had budded between him and his daughter from practically under his nose. Cat felt responsible for all of that. She'd killed her dad.

Having to live with that for the rest of her life was a fight she knew she would be trapped in forever.


	22. Chapter 22: You're Mine

_A/N: Hey everyone. Firstly, let me put out my humblest apologies for being absent for SO long. Trust me, I feel even worse about it than you do. But I'm a college student, and I have two jobs. So needless to say, my life is busy. I'm being completely honest when I say I worked on this chapter as often as I could, in every spare moment I could muster. And now, it's finally done. I hope that it's enjoyed (especially considering how long you all have had to wait for it) _

_BUT, I do have to put out another heads-up concerning the content of the chapter. **It does feature sexuality**. This was kind of another reason for my delay in posting it, as I was rather nervous about both writing and putting it out there. But anyway, here it is. Please read and review, cause you know I like to hear your comments. I'm going to try my very hardest to make sure that the next update comes sooner- and that's a promise! Until next time,_

_-Jess;) _

**Chapter Twenty Two: You're Mine**

Cat sat up in bed with a start, her pajamas drenched in sweat and her entire body shaking violently. The nightmares she'd been having about her mother and father had been getting worse lately, to the point where she didn't know if she could stand them much longer. Though lately she'd taken to staying up all night to prevent them from happening, tonight she guessed she'd fallen asleep without realizing it because she was so tired.

But after having that nightmare she knew she'd never be able to get back to sleep.

Crawling out of bed, she walked over to her window and opened it. Sitting on the sill, she let the cool breeze of the night air blow across her face. It didn't help though, if anything it's chill only made the shiver down her spine worse, making her all the more reluctant to go back to her bed.

She couldn't try to go to sleep again. She just couldn't.

Climbing out of the window, Cat padded across the roof and lifted Heath's window sill ,climbing inside the dark room. tip toeing as quietly as she could over to his bed.

She was surprised when she saw his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling blankly. They met with hers and held as she sat down on the edge of his bed. Neither of them said anything. They just looked at one another in silence. Cat couldn't read what was in his eyes. They were blank and the expression in them mute.

Without speaking a word, she pulled back a side of the covers and slid underneath them, laying flat out on her back, her hands gripping the top of the sheets. Heath stayed still, his own arms at his sides. They stayed like that, laying side by side, their bodies inches apart, but not touching. There was more silence-with only the sound of Cat's shaky, shallow breathing permeating the air.

The egg in her throat was so large that it hurt her to try and swallow it. Her eyes were burning; a plea for her to allow the tears to fall down her face. Cat fought against it. She kept her eyes focused on the ceiling. Licking her lips slowly, she cracked open her lips, softly murmuring, "I can't…I can't get the look in his eyes out of my head. Just before he…" she let her voice trail off and shut her eyes momentarily. "Did we kill him?" she whispered.

"No." Heath's voice was solemn, but calm as he replied.

"Do you feel guilty? About any of this?"

"No."

"Not even for lying to him? Keeping it from him all this time?"

"No." He hadn't moved, hadn't even turned to look at her. Heath was absolutely calm and resolved in his composure.

Cat on the other hand, was nearing the breaking point of hers. She was frustrated, and even a little angry that Heath didn't seem to be experiencing even a hint of the guilty anguish that she was. She couldn't understand how he could manage not to. "Why _not_?" she asked, the tears already beginning to break through her voice.

"Because…" he began, his voice softening, "Because I love you."

Cat let her eyes close with a shuddering gasp, and now, two tears did roll down her cheeks. She quickly dashed them away. A small, cynical smile turned up her lips and she shook her head, her voice trembling with tears, "God, Heath, of all the times to say something like-"

"I don't care about that." He said, interrupting her swiftly, and now he did move, turning on his side so that he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. "Cat, open your eyes and look at me." He commanded, then repeated it more firmly, his voice rising a little bit, "_Look_ at me!"

She opened her eyes, and immediately found her gaze locked with his emerald green irises. They seemed to be glowing, even in the dimness of the room.

Heath's hands snaked up the side of her face, holding onto it tightly. His breath mingled with hers, and now, it seemed like he was becoming upset about something. His eyes seemed to be slowly filling up with that old intensity that always bewildered her. When he spoke, his voice was low and had the smallest bit of a tremor to it, "You think you know about pain? About loss and grief? Before I came here…I was drowning. Do you hear me, Cat? I was dying. I didn't care about anyone, and no one cared about me. I had nothing. Do you know what it's like to have nothing? _Absolutely nothing_ in the world to hold onto? Cat… my life was darkness. _Cold, suffocating darkness_."

Cat stared at him, stunned in spite of herself and her grief. Heath never talked about his life before he came to live with the Ernshawls. Ever. She, along with everyone else always assumed that it was forbidden territory that even he didn't walk into. What had made him break his own rule now?

Heath continued, "But then….one day…I was standing outside of a bar…and I was hungry. I wanted food- but I didn't have any money. So I stole a guy's wallet…but he caught me before I could get away. I thought he would call the cops and have me arrested…but he didn't. He bought me some food and kept talking to me, even when I kept trying to get away. He wanted me to come home with him. He said I needed someone to take care of me. I was just about to try and run away- when he started talking about his daughter, and how I just had to meet her. How she would like someone like me. And then…" Heath's voice became softer now, the tension in his brow lessening, "Then he showed me her picture. She was wearing a white shirt with green sleeves and blue jeans. Her hair was held back with a green polka dot headband. She had her knees drawn up and arms folded across the top of them. And she was smiling…she was smiling at me…When I saw it…when I saw that smile, I-" he broke off then, giving a small shake of his head. Cat felt his fingertips stroke down the side of her face gently, as other fingers played in her hair. Heath almost seemed to be smiling now. Not with his lips, but with his eyes. They seemed lost in a smiling, distant kind of reverie as they roamed over the features of her face, "Cat," he whispered, "When I saw you smiling at me…suddenly…it was like a little bit of air came into my lungs- and I could breathe. The darkness didn't so deep- there was a flicker of light. I felt a warmth on the inside that let me know I could still live- even when I'd thought I'd long been dead….And when I came here, and we became like this…I made up my mind to never, _ever_ let anything happen to make me lose you. If I lose you…I lose everything… Do you want me to feel guilty about that? Do you want me to be ashamed of it?" He shook his head, "I couldn't be any more sorry for loving you than I could be sorry for the air in my lungs or being able to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, or the beating of my heart…you're all of those things to me. Do you understand? I love you Cat. How can you want me to be sorry for that?"

Cat stared at him for a long moment, not knowing what to say. "I don't want you to." she said at last. "I can't…." Then, the tears brimmed in her eyes, this time spilling over the lids and down in her cheeks in steady streams. Her face crumpled and she let a soft sob emerge from her lips, "Buh-," she murmured, "But he's dead, Heath! He's dead! He's dead, he's dead, he's…." her words became lost in the sound of her weeping and she began muttering in unintelligible sounds. Cat covered her face with her hands, muffling the sound. She was crying so hard, she thought that her heart would burst from her chest.

Then, she felt a firm grip close around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. She tried to pull away and put them back, but the grip was too strong and her strength too weakened by her grief. Her eyes stayed closed as she continued to cry, but an instant later, she felt the touch of warm, soft lips brushing against her cheeks, catching the tears as they fell. Every time a tear fell from her eye, Heath's lips were there to stop it in its path. His hands were stroking her hair, her temples. They took hold of her arms and brought them up to hug around his own body as he continued to wordlessly kiss her tears away from her cheeks. Cat hugged his shoulders tightly, continuing to cry and cry, even after she felt she couldn't cry anymore. At last, her sobs resided into shaking, ragged gasps. Her cries were dry and raw now; soundless.

"Heath," she murmured, "Heath, hold me. Hold me." Even before she'd said it a second time, she felt Heath's arms pull her against his body. She wrapped her arms fully around his neck, urging, "Tighter." He obeyed, pressing her closer to him. But Cat was still unsatisfied, repeating more firmly, "Tighter." She wanted the pain to go away- she wanted to make it go away. "Tighter!" she cried, her voice hoarse. Heath wordlessly crushed her body against him. Their chests, their torsos, their legs, nearly every part of their bodies were touching each other. She drew her head back so that they were looking straight into each other's eyes. The light of the moon outside streamed through the blinds, casting a ray of illumination across the side of Heath's face. Cat let her eyes roam over every part of it. She slowly shook her head, "I don't want to lose you too." She whispered.

But Heath cut her off, his voice firm and swift, "No." His fingers combed deeper into her hair, as he repeated, "No." With his free hand, he reached around and brought her hand to the left side of his chest. Cat could feel his pulse from beneath her fingers. It was strong and clear. "Do you feel that?" he asked her, his eyes boring into hers, "It's you. That's how close to me you are. That's how close to you I am. Always."

Cat shook her head helplessly, "Heath, how can that be?" she asked.

"Because I love you," he whispered, "I am I…because you are." The back of his fingers stroked her cheek. He smiled.

And then, after a few moments…she smiled back at him. It was small, and feeble…but it was real. Their eyes roamed one another's faces, seeming to take in every detail. And then, they met. Their faces were moving closer to one another's. Closer. And closer. Closer still.

Cat's lips seemed to melt against Heath's. Her mouth opened and all else was lost in the pressing warmth of his kiss. The same, familiar warmth that spread throughout her entire body returned again, covering her like a blanket. Cat kissed him back, returning his intensifying fervor with a growing passion of her own. Their kisses became harder, more insistent. Cat could feel the pressure of Heath's hands on her back digging deeper and deeper. The grip was so strong she could feel it through her clothes.

He pressed her onto her back against the pillow, shifting his lips from hers down the side of her face as he kissed the stalk of her neck and the area beneath her chin. She combed her fingers through the black silk on his head, holding his skull as she exhaled in a shuddering sigh.

Down between their hips, she could feel another pressure pressing against her middle- a familiar one. At its sensation against the inside of her thigh, she gave a small gasp that ended in a moan. Heath raised his head up to look at her,some of his hair hanging down in his face. His green eyes seemed to be glowing in the same way that they were before that night he'd finished the painting of her. Their breath mingled together; warm and slow. Heath's eyes searched hers as he stayed silent for a moment, licking his lips once. When he spoke, it was in a hoarse, thick whisper, "Cat…" he breathed, "Cat…" he said no more than that, but he didn't have to. She understood him perfectly.

"Yes." She answered, slowly nodding, "Yes." She wanted to. She _needed_ to. She needed him.

At her one word assent, Heath's mouth swooped down upon hers once more, claiming it even more passionately than before. He seemed to want to swallow her mouth with his lips, taking them again and again, without allowing her a single moment to catch her breath. He seemed almost ravenous with desire for her.

At last, he pulled away. Then with passionate insistence, they undressed each other. Heath reached down and pushed her shirt up and up until he had tugged it over her head and cast it aside to the floor. His fingers deftly unhooked her bra, and made it join her shirt.

She saw the way his eyes flashed fire when they roamed over her breasts, but he only let her push his shirt up his back, helping her in bringing it over his head and casting it aside. Heath drew back a little further, his hands going down to her hips, though he kept his eyes locked with hers. His fingers slid inside the edge of her underwear and he slowly pulled it down her legs, his hands caressing her thighs as he did. Cat's hands had gone to the side of his waist, her fingers already poised at his shorts. In another instant, Heath was there to help her slide them off his hips and legs. Now, there was nothing separating the two of them from each other. She could feel him-all of him.

Heath reached down and closed his hands around her shoulders, and to her surprise, drew her up so that the two of them were facing one another on the bed, knees bent. For a long moment he only looked into her eyes, then down the length of her torso, then back up to her eyes again. Her already loosened hair he completely let down from it's ponytail, and it fell down her back in heavy hanks. Cat reached up and smoothed back the hair from his face, letting her palms brush across the roughened areas of his cheeks and jaw. As they passed his lips, Heath kissed them. Her hands went further down, running over his neck and shoulders, his chest, his abdomen. Her fingers flexed and unflexed as she did, savoring the sheer realness, the feel of his skin beneath her touch. At the same time, Heath's hands were roaming over her own body, his pace slowly sensual and coercing. They explored the landscape of each other's bodies with their hands, lingering wherever they chose in a sort of slow awe that was wondrous, but intensely passionate. It didn't quell the brewing storm that was rumbling just beneath the surface of their control; it only built up the anticipation for the storm's break.

Their lips finally met again, this time more forcibly than before. Cat's arms clasped around Heath's neck and she moaned softly as he brought his hands beneath her upper thighs and roughly lifted her up so that she was sitting across him, her legs quickly wrapping around his waist. Clasping her body to him so that it arched, Heath continued to shower her throat and chest with kisses, while Cat let her head fall back, her fingers combed through his hair as she breathed in and out, her forehead creased in intensity. "Cat…" he whispered against her skin, his voice thick and raw with emotion, "Cat…"

Their bodies lowered back against the bed as one, still locked together through entwined arms and legs. Breaking his lips away from hers, Heath looked deeply into her eyes, his gaze soft, yet intense. Cat looked back at him, her legs slowly beginning to spread further apart. As they did, she feeling her heart begin to hammer even faster and harder than it already was. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, her lips felt papery. The magnitude of what they were getting ready to do was beginning to sink in upon her, and she was afraid. It was that simple. Cat was afraid. She was a virgin. Her sexual encounters and experience went no further than the horrible encounter with Greg, and her night with Heath after he had finished the portrait. And in neither of those instances had she actually 'done' anything or had anything 'done' to her.

She didn't know anything about sex. Not one thing. She didn't know how she should act, what she should do- how Heath expected her to act and what he wanted her to do. Should she expect something from him? Was it going to hurt very badly? Suddenly Cat felt so foolish, so immature in her ignorance of the act. She had a wild, brief wish that she had asked someone, anyone about it; her mother, Ellie, Francie, even one of her fashion obsessed, prissily feminine classmates from school- they'd had more knowledge about all of it than she did.

Cat managed to give her lips the smallest bit of moisture as she licked them before whispering, "Ha-have you….have you ever…has there ever been…" she couldn't even finish her sentence, but that didn't seem to matter, for Heath shook his head slowly, his expression honest and steady, "No." he replied. It wasn't that the answer surprised her so much  
(Cat knew that there were things about him that she would never know, but she honestly couldn't imagine anyone else that Heath would have sex with). It was that there was such a tone of calm truthfulness to his voice; he didn't seem embarrassed about his virginity at all. His finger traced down the trail of her cheek and jaw as he murmured, "Do you want to stop?"

Cat only paused for a moment before shaking her head, "No." she whispered. "Don't stop…"

Heath kissed her again, his mouth completely covering hers. His hands were gripping the sides of her face tightly, and he was kissing her hard.

All of a sudden, Cat felt a sharp, shocking pain shoot between her legs, followed by an overwhelming sensation of being filled; as though before that moment she had been empty on the inside, only to have that emptiness abruptly taken away. A moment later, she felt a warmth begin to trickle down her thigh. At the pain, Cat had uttered a cry that had been muffled from the kiss she was still locked in. Her first instinct had been to pull away, but when she tried to, Heath had only held her head even tighter, as if refusing to allow her to. It wasn't until he had released her from the kiss, and she felt his hips stroke against hers that she realized what had just happened.

After that first movement, he went still. Heath's eyes met with hers and held. The jade irises were filled with a passionate intensity that almost took her breath away- they were practically glowing. His fingers stroked against her cheeks, his gaze refusing to let her go as he whispered, "That'll be the last time…the last time I ever do anything to hurt you…I swear…" His lips brushed against hers lightly, kissing her with all the gentleness that Cat thought was possible.

She felt her eyes suddenly begin to burn, and the egg in her throat enlarge. She swallowed hard, and clasped Heath's broad shoulders with her hands tightly, shutting her eyes. She could barely bear to look at him anymore-she suddenly felt an irrepressible urge to cry. Not from sadness- but from something else. Something…

It was the feeling of Heath inside of her, filling her up completely. He was so close to her like this- as close as he could possibly be. It was like…like he was apart of her. Like they were one person.

The mere contemplation of that alone was enough to make Cat forget the throbbing pain between her legs. She wanted to feel it: she wanted to feel him; filling her with more of himself, again and again. She wanted Heath.

She loved him. She _loved_ him.

Searching his eyes with her own glassy ones, Cat's mouth moved up and down, struggling to form words, but none would come. Not even the ones that were resounding through her mind over and over again,

_I love you…I love you…I love you…_

Heath kissed her again, before making his hips thrust against hers once more in a firm, but gentle stroke. At that, the two of them released a simultaneous moan against each other's lips. Cat's legs instinctively rose up from the bed and came to clasp around his waist, locking together at the ankles. He moved inside of her again and she arched her body against his, exhaling deeply as her face clenched in a tightened contortion of ardor.

As his thrusts in and out of her flowed into a steady, rhythmic pace, Heath buried his face in the crook of her neck. He was mostly silent, the only sound escaping him being heavy, labored breathing with an occasional low groan coming out of his throat that was largely muffled by her hair.

Her body was still giving small quivers from the aftershock of the loss of her virginity, and to brace herself, Cat slid her fingers down Heath's back, digging the nails into his skin. They sank in deeper with every thrust he made inside of her, before relaxing again. The pain she had felt only moments ago was beginning to dull and fade away, being replaced with a new sensation that she'd never experienced before. It made her body begin to respond to Heath's, moving her hips in synch against his. Her legs around his waist tightened, squeezing their grip. At this, Heath groaned louder, his words now audible, "_God_…Caaaat…" his head rose up from her neck, his eyes seemingly wild with passion. He didn't stop the dance they were carrying out with their bodies as he breathed roughly, "Cat. Cat."

She realized he was trying to get her attention and struggling to catch her own breath, Cat opened her eyes and looked back at him, "Wha-what?"

"Tell me you're mine…I want to hear you say it," He kissed her again, his mouth devouring hers, "Mmmmm," he moaned, against her lips. He kissed her lower and lower down her jaw, murmuring against her skin, "Cat, say it …say you're mine…"

She had heard what he said. But it was all Cat could do to keep herself conscious of it- her body was crying out for her to let herself succumb to the passions threatening to overtake her and make her lose sense of everything else. They were so overwhelming it was almost impossible for her to speak. "I…I…" she gasped.

Suddenly Heath's voice came again, this time sharp and demanding as he hissed from between his teeth, "_Say_ it!"

She cried out at the feel of his teeth clamping down on a piece of skin on her neck, biting at it. "AH! Yes! Yes, I'm yours! I'm yours!"

But he was still unsatiated. Still kissing her skin, he continued, "Now say you belong to me- only to me…oh God, Cat…say that…"

"I…I only belong to you, Heath. Only to you…"

"Forever," he urged her.

"For- forever." She could feel his lips smile against her skin and when he lifted his head up to look at her, she saw it for herself. "You're mine, Cat," he said, his hands stroking her face, "_Mine_!" He abruptly thrust against her hard at the last word, making her crane her neck back with a cry of surprised passion. His pace was rapidly increasing, quickening. It began to stir a hidden flame from within Cat, causing it to rise higher and higher from within. They were moving together now, their hips rising and falling, again and again. The sounds of them both now gasping and moaning were audible evidence of the rising anticipation of the unknown something that was undoubtedly approaching.

Cat clung onto Heath tightly, her entire body attached to his in some way. She couldn't think past the mound of pleasure forming between her legs. Her mind was a whirlwind of jumbled colors and thoughts. In another minute, she would lose herself completely. In another minute she would burst. In another minute-

A sharp, strangled cry tore from the very back of Cat's throat as she felt herself come in an explosion of intensity that was almost unbearably pleasurable.

In the next moment, she cried out again as she felt a white hot essence sear her on the inside, followed by a long shuddering gasp from Heath's mouth as he climaxed as well. The two of them went absolutely still for a few moments, frozen in their entwined embrace, before Heath's body fell against hers and they both sank back down against the bed, both panting heavily.

Cat's body was slick with sweat. She felt utterly devoid of all energy and strength. Her limbs felt limp and heavy, and it was all she could do to continue clasping her arms around Heath.

Although his body was dampened like hers, and tendrils of his silky black hair were sticking to his forehead, he didn't seem to be weakened at all. The grip of his arms only tightened around her, stronger and stronger. His head rested against her breast as he heavily breathed in and out. He didn't say anything. All he did was continue to hold her to him. He was trembling. Her hands shifted from his back to the silky mass of hair on his crown. Using her fingers, she brushed the matted strands away from his forehead, smoothing the skin gently. She lowered her lips down and kissed it once. Heath took up one of her hands and raised it to his lips; He kissed each one of her fingers slowly and lingeringly before entwining them between his own.

No words were spoken between the two of them. All was silence, save for the sound of their breathing which gradually became slower and more steady, as both of them were lulled into the throes of sleep.

* * *

It was the hour of the morning when the mere cracks of dawn could be seen coming over the horizon, when the light didn't come as a beaming ray of sunshine, but an aura of blue and gray. That aura now filled Heath's room, making it go from dark to dim.

Both Cat and Heath were awake. He was laying propped up in the bed, his back against the wall, while she was leaning against his shoulder, her abundant hair spilled against her back and some of his chest. His arm was securely enclosed around her waist, holding her to him. With their free hands, they allowed each other's fingers to weave and in and out of one another's in the air with gentle idleness.

Cat's voice came soft and murmuring, "Heath?"

The deep timbre of his voice vibrated against her ear, "Mmhmm?" he said calmly.

"Do you think…" she paused, licking her lips tentatively, "Do you think that this….what happened…do you think it was incest?"

"You were never a sister to me, Cat." He answered. She felt the hand positioned against her waist begin to stroke her hip slowly, with the same gentle idleness of the hand that was in hers, "I never saw you that way."

Cat lifted her head up and looked at him, a small smile at her lips, "Then how do you see me?"

Heath returned her smile with one of his own. Reaching out he smoothed back some of her hair, allowing his fingers to stroke her cheek, "Do you want me to show you or tell you?"

Cat waited for a long moment, lifting her gaze up to the ceiling in mirthful consideration for a long moment. Then, she looked back at him, smiling wider, "Both!" she announced evenly.

Heath's teeth flashed briefly as he gave a small laugh. "Alright," he murmured. His fingers stroked her cheek again for a few moments, his eyes searching hers in silence for a long moment. Cat's expression softened, as the smile left her lips, being replaced with a look of, content understanding. His head was slowly lowering down to hers, his lips wavering above her already waiting ones. As he kissed her, Cat let out a deep exhalation, letting her arms come up to hug around his neck as he clasped her body against his. Their lips moved against one another's in a pace that was unhurried, but passionately insistent; ever going deeper and deeper.

Finally, she felt his lips slow themselves down, then lift from hers. As he opened his eyes, Heath kept his arms around her as he murmured, "Whenever I look at you…I see the missing part of me. Not my sister. Not my friend. I see the thing that makes me whole…." He smiled faintly, tapping her nose once with his fingertip, "Does that answer your question?"

Cat smiled back at him, feeling her throat become tight and gritty, "Yeah," she whispered, "I think that about does it."

Heath began to lower his head back down to kiss her again, but stopped at the sound of slow, rhythmic clapping. Cat turned her head to see where the sound was coming from, then literally jumped, her heart instantly beginning to hammer.

Henry was sitting in the open window sill, one leg on either side. A tight, sardonic grin was on his lips as he looked at the two of them.

A baseball bat was laying across his lap.

For a long while, no one said anything. Cat could hardly breathe, all she could look at was the bat. She didn't dare look to see Heath's expression. Somehow she felt like if she kept looking at the bat, it wouldn't harm either one of them.

At last, Henry gave a small, short laugh, "Please both of you, what's with the long faces? I mean after all," he swung his other leg over the side, and stood up. He slowly began to walk toward the bed, waving the baseball bat in a circular motion through the air, "We're all mature adults here, aren't we? We took sex ed in high school." He tilted his head to the side, an ironic glint in his eye, "And it seems the two of you have moved beyond the education part of it, haven't you?"

Cat's mouth was so dry that it hurt to swallow, "Henry…just…" she struggled to keep her voice level, "Just let me…let me try and explain." What she would have explained, Cat didn't have the slightest idea. Her mind was struggling to think clearly, to think of something that would make her brother leave, or at least put down the baseball bat. But all she could hear was the voice of her sister in law, from a conversation since passed,

"_Cat…I think he __wants__ a reason to get at Heath. Just one, no matter how small is all it would take..."_

Meanwhile, Henry's eyes were roving up and down her body with a leering amusement. He snickered as she tried to cover up her breasts with her hands, "Very nice Cat- not what I expected at all…Damn, now I understand why Beals was so desperate to-"

"Stop it." Heath's voice was firm and quiet. Cat felt his hand rest securely on hers and close around it. "That's enough." She dared to slowly turn her head and look up at Heath's face. There was a stoic determination in his eyes, in the set of his lips. He wasn't afraid or even nervous. Not at all.

Henry's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched as he stared back at him. Raising the baseball bat, he pointed it at Heath, then gestured with it to a corner far away from the bed, "Stand up. Get over there."

"All of this is Cat's choice." Heath said in reply. "You can't tell her what to do with her own life. You don't own her… and she wants to be with me."

Henry's jaw clenched tighter, but he only gestured to the corner with the bat again, "Get _over_ there." He repeated in a low growl.

But Heath placed a protective arm around Cat's shoulder and pulled her closer to him, "Whatever problem you still have with me; about your mom, your dad, or Beals- I don't care about any of that. I love her-" Henry suddenly cut him off, making Cat jump as he shouted,

"Do you think I really give a shit?! Now get your _filthy_ hands off my sister, and get the hell over there!"

"Heath, go," Cat whispered to him urgently, "Do what he says."

Heath hesitated, then slowly reached out for his boxers on the floor. As he did however, Henry shook the bat again, "Uh uh. Leave them. Get over there."

Heath's lips pressed together tightly and Cat saw the Adam's apple in his throat bob up and down as he swallowed hard, but he slowly stood up from the bed and walked over to the corner, placing his hands over the area below his stomach.

Henry looked him up and down and gave a terse chuckle, "Don't bother. I want you to fold your hands behind your head and stand on one leg."

Heath's mouth fell open a little in shock while Cat gave a sharp, incredulous gasp, "Henry what are you doing?"

"Are you crazy?" Heath asked. "What are you trying to-"

"Fold… your hands behind your head… and stand on one leg." Henry repeated more firmly.

Heath shook his head, "No. No I won't."

Henry looked at him for a long moment, then snickered again and positioned the bat on his shoulder, beginning to walk around the room. "Maybe I should explain something to you two." He said, "Something you may have forgot in your… passion. When Dad died, he left me everything- you understand that? Everything. From that pretty little bike Dad got you," he said gesturing to Heath, "To those smelly sheets you're laying on." He nodded at Cat, "It all belongs to me. I decide what I want on this land, and what I don't want…._who_ I want and who I don't want here. You know what that means, don't you?"

"You don't get to keep anything if you try and throw us off this land!" Cat spat at him venomously.

Henry only smiled at her, "Correction little sister: I don't get to keep anything if I throw _you_ off this land. Just you and Ellie. Anybody else well, that's all up to me…" he winked at Heath and made a snapping noise with his mouth, "You starting to catch on yet?"

Heath stared at him, his gaze like stone, "You're saying I have to leave?"

"No!" Cat interrupted angrily, "No, he is _not _leaving, do you hear me Henry? Heath's not going anywhere!"

Henry shrugged, "Well that's not up to you, is it, Cat? That all depends on Heath here." Stopping in front of Heath, he grinned devilishly, "Provided he can follow a few simple instructions."

Heath continued to stare at him, his gaze hard and unyielding. After a long silence, he murmured, "What do you want from me?"

"One word Heath old buddy: obedience. Let me put it this way: if you want to stay here, from this day on, I will control every single part of your life. That means when and what you eat, when and where you sleep, who you speak to, how long you work- you will not even take a piss without my permission, do you hear me?

"And on a more personal note," he continued, "I'm also deciding to limit your communications with my dear little sister. From now on, you two will not be anywhere that I don't want you to be, doing anything I don't want you to be doing." Henry took a step closer to Heath' their faces mere inches apart from each other. His voice came low and tight as he continued, "And I hope that little fuck you just gave her was good. Because from now on… you see her when I say you can see her, you talk to her when I say you can talk to her, you don't even _look_ at her unless I allow you to…If you can follow those rules, then we should get along just fine. Break them, and I'll break them faster than I could break that arm of yours," he said tapping Heath's arms with the baseball bat, "You got that…_It_?" he said bitingly, "I'm God- you're the insect. Disappoint me, and I'll squash the shit out of you. _I own you_, and you're going to do whatever the hell I say, and the first thing I want you to do…is to fold your hands behind your head, and stand on one leg."

Heath's green eyes were glittering with pure, unadulterated hate. His body had gone very still, but his fists were clenched at his sides. It didn't even look like he was breathing. It was anyone's guess what he was thinking, but Cat didn't want to know. Her eyes were glassy with tears and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from letting them fall.

As Heath slowly raised his arms up, a gleeful, devilish grin creased Henry's features and he laughed softly. Interlacing his fingers together on the back of his head, Heath raised his right leg up and crossed it behind his left.

Henry began laughing harder as he watched him, "Funny isn't it?" he said, looking back at Cat on the bed, "They used to make us do this back in Kuwait- in a little correction facility I _visited_ for a while. Straighten your leg, It!" he suddenly snapped, prodding the end of the bat against Heath's left leg, "Yep," he said, relaxing back into an almost conversational voice, "Sometimes in the middle of the night, they'd wake us all up and make us stand like this- all in row." He snorted, "Heh. We'd have to stay frozen like this for hours. And if even one of us moved one little inch…" He trailed off, then without warning, his face twisted into a snarl and he rammed the baseball bat into Heath's abdomen with a savage force.

Something like a choked cry emitted from Heath's throat and he keeled over, falling down to the floor with a dull thud, flailing about on the ground as he struggled for breath. Already his face was turning a pale blue.

Cat screamed his name and started to leap off the bed and go to him, but Henry crossed the room in two strides and blocked her, waving the bat in her face, "Stay." He said coldly.

Cat glanced around him at Heath, who was still wheezing frantically. There was a guttural sound coming from the back of his throat, almost like he was trying to speak, but hadn't the breath to do so.

"Henry, please I have to help him-" she began, but he yanked her up by her hair, jerking her face up close to his, "I said don't _move_ you little whore!" he barked at her, hurling her back across the bed. Walking back over to where Heath lay on the ground, Henry circled him for a few seconds, his lips curled up in revulsion, "God, you disgust me!" he muttured, "You groveling," he smacked the bat against the back of Heath's leg, "Pathetic," it smashed against his hand, "Animal!" Raising the bat with both hands, Henry brought it down full force onto Heath's back. He had been on his hands and knees trying to get up, but with the final blow, he collapsed back onto the ground. There was a cracking sound in the air, and the wood of the bat splintered across Heath's back, then clattered on the ground.

Henry stood over him, breathing heavily. Looking over at Cat, who was weeping silently, he scowled, "Stop crying." He said scornfully, "He'll be alright… I was."

Cat continued to let the tears stream down her cheeks, shaking her head despairingly.

Her brother used his foot to turn Heath on his back roughly. "Get him dressed," he said, "I want that piece of shit working in The Heights in an hour."

She stared at him in horror as he walked out of the room, then waited until she heard the last of his footsteps on the stairs. Immediately, she vaulted off of the bed with a sob and knelt down beside Heath, calling his name brokenly through her tears,

"Heath! Heath, oh God, oh my _God_!" Doing her best to be careful, she lifted his body up and propped it in her arms, stroking his face frantically, "Heath, please speak to me! Please be alright!"

Heath's eyelids slowly cracked open, then widened more when he saw her face, "Uhh…" he groaned faintly, "C-Cat…"

"Yeah," she sobbed in relief, "It's Cat! I'm here, I'm here!"

He slowly managed to raise his arm up and trace the edges of his fingers across her cheek before it fell back at his side, "I… love you…" he gasped.

She nodded, "I know that," She assured him, "I know!" Her face crumbled and she succumbed to the sobs that overtook her body, burying her face into the crook of Heath's neck, still grasping him to her tight, as if she was afraid that at any moment, he would disappear.


	23. Chapter 23: Edgar

_Hey guys, update time! It's Winter Break, finals are over and I feel on top of the world!^_^ As far as this update is concerned, well, I think that the title of the chapter speaks for itself. At long last, he makes his entrance. Thanks all around to everyone who reads and reviews faithfully- I appreciate it (especially the reviews) so very much. Hope you enjoy, and everyone have an AWESOME Christmas, k?_

_-Jess_

**  
Chapter Twenty Three- Edgar**

Cat started up in bed when she heard the light tapping on her window. She immediately flung back her comforter and stepped into the sneakers that were sitting on the floor beside the bed. She was fully dressed all but for a jean jacket, which she flung on quickly before going over to the sill and going out. Sliding the window back closed, she went over to the edge of the roof and looked down.

Heath was sitting in one of the lower branches of the tree outside her window, a few small stones in his hand. Upon seeing her, he smiled, and reached out his arms to her, "C'mon, jump." He said.

Cat nodded and poised her body before nimbly jumping into the tree, making no more noise than a gentle rustle. In another few moments, the two of them had climbed down the tree, and were hurrying across the back field towards the woods, Heath leading Cat by the hand. She instinctively glanced behind her every so often, making sure they weren't being followed.

They had become used to this routine for the past few weeks; Cat sneaking out in the middle of the night so that the two of them could retreat into the woods to spend a few hours with one another before she had to creep back into her room again. They had to see each other in secret now if they truly wanted to be alone. Henry had been more than thorough in ensuring that Cat and Heath were kept as separate from one another as was possible.

The first thing he had done was take away Heath's room above The Heights. Everything he had in it was taken as well; his sketch books, his paints, and other supplies, all were thrown away. The majority of Heath's clothes were given away, until he was left only with the clothes he had used to work in The Heights with Will, which were dirty and worn. Now, he slept on a narrow army cot in a corner of the auto shop that folded up. The mattress was filthy, its springs poking through the cheap fabric. The shadows that always seemed to be beneath Heath's eyes told Cat that he never got much sleep anyway.

He was forbidden from even entering the house. Ellie took his food out to him for him to eat, little enough as it was. Cat didn't know how he used the bathroom or even showered. There were sometimes when she thought he didn't at all.

The two of them said nothing on the way to the cave in the woods. They never spoke until they were safely inside.

The fire inside the cave was already built and flickering gently. As the two of them sat down, Cat reached out and took hold of Heath's hand, turning it to look it over. Layers of dirtied cloth from an old t shirt were wrapped around the palm. She slowly undid them and looked at the exposed skin. There was still a blackish, purplish bruise on the top from where the baseball bat had slammed against it. She tentatively pressed her thumbs against the palm, trying to be careful. Heath slightly winced, sucking in a short breath. She looked up at him, "Is it still really bad?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Heath shook his head, "It's getting better. The bones have almost completely healed I think. I don't think I'm ever going to lose the numbness in it though."

She let her gaze shift away from his hand to his calve, "You still walking on the leg good?"

"It's fine." He answered, "It looked worse than it actually was."

Cat looked at him, her gaze suddenly becoming bleak. She abruptly turned away, clenching clumps of her hair in frustration as she squeezed her eyes shut. She exhaled sharply, her face clenching, "God…" she murmured, "God…"

Heath was immediately behind her, touching her hair and shoulder gently, "Hey," he said, "What's wrong?"

Cat let her arms hug herself and opened her eyes, staring into the flames blindly. She waited a long time before murmuring, "Two more families moved away today. The Murtchisons and the Hills…" she gave a small laugh, "They always said they'd live here forever. And now they're gone. Everyone's leaving Heath. Everyone's leaving…and we're still here. God, I just…" she shook her head, "I can't understand why we still have to _be_ here!"

"Because this is our home, Cat," he said, "This is where we belong."

"No!" she cried, her voice rising abruptly, "No, don't say that! Heath, I'm sick of it- I'm so _sick_ of it all! I'm tired of having to watch the place I knew become something else. I'm tired of having to sneak around like this just to see you. I'm tired of seeing you beat up by my brother. I'm tired of seeing him betray everything that Dad raised us to be. I'm sick of it!" her voice raised to a shout and she sighed again before turning around and coming closer to Heath. She laid her hands on his chest, clenching his shirt a little. Her face became anxious and pleading, "Heath, Heath can't we just go away from here? Why don't we just run away? Today, right now- let's just go!"

Heath was shaking his head, looking down at her with practical sympathy, "Run away? Cat, where would we go? You've never been anywhere else but here-"

"So what?" she interrupted impatiently, "I don't _care_ where we go so long as it's far away from here! Heath you've been to other places, we could go there, we could go anywhere- just take me away from this place!"

"Cat, we don't have any money. What would we do anywhere without money? You can't just pick up and decide to-"

"_I can't stay here_!" she shrieked, feeling tears begin to prick behind her eyes, "Don't you _get_ that?" she slapped her hands against his chest angrily, breathing hard now, "You expect me to just wait here, and hope things are going to get better?! That maybe one day Henry will drop dead and we won't have to do this anymore? That I won't have to see you like…this?" she gestured to him wildly, "Heath…._look_ at you! Look at what he's reduced you to! How can you even stand it? How can you stand for him to have brought you so low?"

Something in Heath's face winced, but he shook his head firmly, "It doesn't matter. I don't let it matter."

Cat stared at him, "You don't mean that. You can't."

"Yes I can. I do."

"I won't let you mean that," she argued swiftly, "It doesn't make any sense. Heath, have you ever thought about trying to fight back? Just once?"

He clenched his jaw, "Just stop it, alright?"

"Are you afraid of him? Is that it? You're really afraid of him?"

Heath roughly drew away from her and stood up, turning away from her. "I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid of what he can do. To us."

"What would fighting back do to us? If you're not afraid of Henry, then what are you afraid of?"

"You don't get it!" he said exasperatedly, "I don't want to risk anything that will take you away from me. I won't let anything like that happen."

"So you're willing to throw yourself against my brother's fist just because of me?"

"I'd throw myself against _anyone's_ fist if it meant being with you!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of the cave. His expression softened, "Cat…I love you. Don't you know what that means to me? All of this…it's worth it…as long as I still have you."

Cat reached out and lightly touched the scar on his forehead, "I don't want to see you like this because of me." She winced as she looked him up and down, taking in his dirty, rumpled appearance, "Heath…we've got to leave here. Don't you see that?"

He shook his head, stepping towards her. He took her face in his hands, "No, no we don't. We can stay right here. We can still be happy…as long as we're together."

Cat drew her face out of his grip, sighing frustratingly, "Why don't you ever want enough, Heath? Why don't you ever care about something important?"

"I care about you." He stated.

She muttered, "Yeah…and maybe that's a mistake too!"

"What did you say?" he asked sharply.

Cat shook her head, "Nothing. I'm just upset. C'mon. We should just get back now."

"But we just got here."

"Yeah, I know. But I just… I just want to be alone right now."

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" he asked her, but she shook her head,

"No, I'm not. I just want to be alone." Cat had lied to him. She was angry at Heath. She was angry at his willingness to stay where he was, in the condition of life that he was under. She was angry that he didn't seem to understand or agree with her desire to leave there. She started to go toward the opening of the cave, but Heath caught her arm and pulled her to him. Cat tried to avoid his gaze by looking down at the ground, but he tipped her chin up, staring deep into her eyes. "What?" she asked impatiently.

He brought his lips down onto hers in reply, wrapping her in his arms. The kiss was almost inquiring, as if he were trying to decipher something through her lips. Cat kissed him back, but when his lips drifted down her neck, she pushed him back with her hands, "Heath, no. Not now. Things are just too complicated right now as it is."

Heath cupped his hand around her cheek, a light frown creasing his brow. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but expectant, "I _love_ you Cat."

She nodded, "Yeah, I know. We need to get back now, okay?"

Turning, she started to climb through the hole, then looked back briefly at Heath. He was still frozen in his spot, looking at her in a peculiar way, his head slightly tilted to the side.

"C'mon!" she said, a touch of irritation in her voice, "We have to get back." Going through the hole, she sniffed briskly, then suddenly paused. She looked back at the hole, waiting to see if Heath was coming through. When he didn't, she took advantage of her privacy.

Cat brought her hand up to her lips and rubbed at them firmly, doing the same with her neck in the places Heath's lips had drifted.

She then hurriedly sniffed at her clothes to see if the smell in his clothes had gotten on her.

Even as she did it, she felt the guilt eating away at her. But it faded when she saw Heath come through the hole and was able to take in his appearance again,

_I couldn't help it,_ she thought to herself as they walked back, _He's just gotten so…dirty…_

_

* * *

_"Chrissy? Chrissy!?"

Cat inhaled sharply, trying hard to keep the lump in her throat at bay as she ran through the woods. She'd been out here for a couple of hours now, desperate to escape the investors and real estate agents who'd been back the house talking business with Henry all morning, and since there was no question of getting to be with Heath, Cat had scooped up Chrissy and left without a word to anyone. But since she and Heath had been staying out later and later all night for the past week, Cat hadn't really noticed how tired she was until she'd settled down on a grassy spot and fallen asleep. When she'd woken up, Chrissy was nowhere to be found.

Now as she rushed through the forest, panic began to seize her as she heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Chrissy was afraid of thunder, lightning too—whenever she heard it she always hid under something. What if she was hiding under something now? She'd never find her, especially if by the look of those clouds, a huge storm was coming…

"Chrissy!" Cat yelled at the top of her lungs.

No answer.

Hugging herself, she leaned back against a nearby tree, closing her eyes with a shaking sigh. Since Heath had to stay away from her now, Chrissy had been her only friend. If she didn't have her she didn't have anyone—

A soft mewing made Cat's eyes snap open. The sound was distant, yet clear enough for her to hear what direction it was coming from. Running towards it, she called out, "Chrissy, Chrissy I'm coming!" Finally she found her, the white cat was crouched in the crook of a fallen tree branch, meowing pitifully as the sound of the thunder got louder and louder. Scooping her up with a relieved smile, Cat soothed, "There, there…it's okay. What were you doing, going off like that and scaring me like that…" Brushing her cheek against the cat's soft white fur, she hugged it to her chest for a long moment and closed her eyes in contentment. "C'mon, let's go home."

The sound of a click startled her.

"Beautiful."

Cat gasped, clutching Chrissy to her tightly as she opened her eyes and saw a man standing in front of her. A camera was in his hands but blocked his face from her vision. Because she was too surprised to say anything at first, he smiled and said, "Wait, hold that expression…" _Click. Click. Click._ "Perfect." When he finally lowered the camera away, the handsome face of a young man smiled wider at her. He had deep blue eyes, short blond hair, and a grin that was impossible to ignore. It was soft…soft and gentle.

But remembering the fact that he'd taken her by surprise, Cat blinked and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The man raised the camera back up to his eye and began snapping pictures of her again, moving around to get them in different angles, but replied, "Oh me? I'm just a simple guy, trying to get what every photographer wants and dreams of every night; a picture of a pretty girl." Briefly lowering the camera, he winked and said, "But my friends call me Edgar," then went back to snapping the camera. "So how 'bout a smile for me, princess?"

Cat looked away, a light smile already touching her lips, but protested, "C'mon, cut it out already…"

"Nooooot a chance." He replied with another grin, continuing to click away. "Not until I get a better shot of that smile," When she shook her head in playful defiance, Edgar put on a fake sad expression on his face, lifting his eyebrows in an imploring way as he asked, "Pleeease?"

"Nope."

"Oh you're breaking my heart," He sighed, then gestured to Chrissy, "I guess I'll just have to settle for shots of your cat, then. I bet she'd smile for me, wouldn't you sweetie?" Starting to raise the camera back up to his eye, Edgar suddenly stopped, then asked her, "How _do_ you get a cat to smile, by the way?"Here Cat couldn't hold back an amused laugh, giving Edgar his opportunity, "_There_ we go, that's what I wanted!" _Click. Click._ "Right here, pretty girl, look right in the lens…" _Click._ "Great, now look up, like you're thinking about a cute guy—me, for example—just kidding. Fabulous…" _Click. Click._ "Let me see…" _Click. Click._ "…those pearly whites." _Click. Click. Click._ "_Gor_-geous." _Click._

Cat looked back at him as he finally lowered the camera away, unable to keep a pink blush from flushing her cheeks at having been under such attention. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been complimented so profusely. Ellie and Francie were usually too solemn to pay attention to how she looked, Henry certainly didn't pay attention to it, and it had been quite a while since Heath had bothered to tell her she was beautiful. Cat supposed it was probably because he didn't think there was a need to anymore. Though ordinarily she would have agreed with him, since meeting Edgar several moments ago, she was beginning to find she liked it very much. "Are you finished yet?" She asked with a playful smile.

"Only if you are, princess. But personally, I could go on shooting you all night."

Cat laughed softly, "Well thanks, but I think you might find that pretty hard to do with nighttime about to come."

"Not a problem—this baby's got night vision." He said, then as Cat laughed again, asked, "So do you have a name?"

"What?"

"Your name, what is it?" A mischievous look came into his eyes as he asked playfully, "Or are you too big of a star to tell me and have to make up a fake one?"

She laughed again and replied, "No, no I'm not. The name's Cat. Cat Ernshawl."

"Cat Ernshawl," He repeated with a smile. "Well, if it's not famous now, then it will be one day…with these pictures, I promise you it will."

Cat shrugged, "If I ever get outta here, maybe."

"What, do you live around here?"

She nodded, deciding to trust him as she replied, "Yep, just back that way, a couple of minutes out of the woods. My dad—well, my family owns an auto repair shop."

"Really? Why don't I walk you home and introduce myself then?"

The smile faded from Cat's face as she immediately shook her head, "No, no I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"Oh come on, why not? I'm not that bad of a guy, despite what you may think. I've actually been told I'm all—"

"_No_." There was no mistaking the firmness in her voice.

Edgar's smile faded away now too as he nodded in resignation, "Oh, well…okay. I'm uh…I'm sorry for insisting, I didn't know you were ser—"

"Just forget it, Edgar." Cat said, looking away in embarrassment. Cuddling Chrissy to her chest, she sighed and turned back towards the direction of home, saying briefly, "I'll see you around, I guess…bye."

"Yeah…bye."

Cat hadn't walked 5 paces before she heard Edgar call her name out, "Cat, wait!" Turning, she saw him coming towards her, saying, "Look, I know you might not want me to meet your family, I understand that; everyone has the right to their own privacy. But—"Here Edgar looked away for a moment, then continued with a small smile on his face, "But at the risk of sounding like a stalker or something… I just don't want to let you walk away like this."

Furrowing her brow in both confusion and suspicion, Cat asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I uh…I don't know, actually!" He laughed sheepishly. "I guess the only way to put it is that I want to see you again, photograph you again…get to know you better."

"Why?"

"I don't really know the answer to that either," He shrugged with another laugh. "I guess you could just call it curiosity. What can I say, I'm a photographer…I like being around beautiful things." He finished softly, the look in his eyes matching the tone of his voice.

Cat blushed, looking at him silently for along moment as she cuddled Chrissy to her chest tighter. Finally she returned his smile with a light one of her own, replying, "Okay, you're on."

"Great!" He grinned, then looked upwards as a crash of thunder rumbled through the sky. "Uh-oh, looks like it's going to be a big one." After putting his camera into a leather bag that had been on his shoulder, Edgar said, "All right come on, let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"Home, it's going to pour in a few minutes. You said you live in that direction, right?"

"Yeah, but I already told you—"

"I know, I know what you told me, but what kind of gentlemen would I be if I let a pretty girl like you walk home alone in a storm?" Sighing heavily at the frown on her face, he smiled and offered, "How about this; I walk with you as far as the edge of your yard, then I scram—no one in your family has to even get a glimpse of me. Just let me walk you home, though."

Cat thought about it for a minute, then finally nodded and smiled, "All right, sure. Let's go then." She set off with him in the direction of the house. At first the two walked in silence, then Edgar broke the ice by asking, "So have you lived here all of your life?"

"Mm-hmm," She replied with a nod, but added quickly, "But I'm not gonna stay here the rest of my life. As soon as I find a way, I'm going to get as far away from this place as I can!"

"Don't like it here, huh?"

"Ugh, I hate it," She groaned. "Always have, always will!"

Laughing shortly, he asked, "So where do you want to be?"

"I don't know…somewhere, _anywhere_ so long as there's real people. New York." Cat stated after a short pause. "I think New York's the place for me. In all the magazines I read New York sounds like the most fabulous city in the world!"

"New York can be pretty nice," Edgar nodded. "It's certainly big enough for a good time; there's lots of things to do and see there."

Cat looked at him intently, "Wait, have you actually been to New York before?"

"Oh yeah, sure, my family's got a house there, it's where we spend most of our time." He replied breezily.

"_Really?_ Well don't you just love it?"

Edgar shrugged, "I mean, it's all right, but after a while, I guess it just sort of becomes common place for you. It's certainly not the _best_ place to be in the world."

"Well where else have you been?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Just about everywhere- name a place, and we've probably been there. My favorite places were Athens, Rome and Cape Town."

Cat's jaw dropped in amazement, "Wow…I can't believe it; you've been _everywhere…"_

Edgar laughed, "Well, I guess you could say moving is our life; my father's business deals with real estate so we get to go wherever there's anything profitable to be built. He would take us kids with him on business all the time when we were growing up."

A strange feeling suddenly struck Cat at hearing this, a creeping premonition that she couldn't ignore. "Your father?"

"Yeah, Gregory Linton, he's brought us here while the company's building housing developments. Have you heard of it?"

Here Cat stopped dead in her tracks, "Yeah, I've heard of it. There isn't anyone in this town who doesn't know about it….what's left of the people in this town anyway."

"You're still here," he pointed out, "Why's that?"

Cat bit her lip, not knowing how to reply. Luckily, a downpour of rain suddenly started to shower down on them, making Cat squeal, "C'mon, we're almost there; it's just over the next hill!" Taking his hand, she began running towards home, laughing with Edgar as the two of them slipped and slid over the muddy grass. When they got to edge of the front yard, Cat stopped and looked ahead of her at the gravel driveway beside the house; the truck wasn't there. That meant Henry was gone, probably for the rest of the night to close another deal like he'd taken to doing lately. If this was the case, then maybe having Edgar over for a while might not be such a bad idea after all—

"So this is home, huh?" Edgar's voice from behind her made Cat nod and smile.

"This is home…be it ever so humble."

"It's just fine. Well," He said with a reluctant sigh. "I guess this is where I hold my side of our deal and get out of your hair." Smiling down at her gently, Edgar said, "It was nice being with you today, Cat. I'll see you around, okay?"

He turned to go, and she stared after him for a few seconds, biting her lip. Then, without even thinking about it, she called, "Edgar wait! You-you don't have to go, I guess."

A slow, surprise grin spread his lips apart, "Is that right?"

"Yeah, I mean, it would be really mean to make you walk all the way home in this storm. If you wanted you could come in and wait it out in the house."

"Well all right," He nodded pleasantly. "What are we waiting for?"

When they got to the front door, Cat opened it slowly, kicking off her sneakers on the porch and gesturing for Edgar to do the same as they entered the house. "Hello? Ellie, Francie I'm home!"

"Cat?" Ellie's voice called out from the kitchen. "Where've you been, girl? You've been gone for hours, me 'n Francie were worried!"

Taking Edgar's hand, Cat went back to kitchen where she saw Ellie and Francie sitting at the table together. "I know Ellie, I'm sorry. I guess I just lost track of the time." Putting Chrissy down to go to her bowl of food in the corner, Cat decided to answer the question she knew both of them were dying to know the answer to. Clearing her throat, she said, "This is Edgar Linton. I met him out in the woods and told him he could wait out the storm in here. That's okay, isn't it Ellie?"

For a long moment Ellie didn't say anything. As soon as the last name Linton had passed her lips, both women's faces had changed to expressions of utter shock and bewilderment. It wasn't until Cat cleared her throat again that Ellie blinked and exclaimed, "Oh yeah, yeah sure, honey that's fine! Just…just let me put the kettle back on the stove so I can make Mister Linton here some tea."

Edgar smiled, "Thanks ma'am, I'd appreciate that. And you can just call me Edgar."

Francie stood and pulled out a chair at the table, "You can…you can just sit here, Mister Lin—I mean Edgar. Let me get your coat for you."

As she took his coat, Cat decided to relieve the tension in the room by saying brightly, "Well, I'm gonna change out of these wet clothes. I'll be right back Edgar, and then I want to hear all about New York!"

"All right, for as long as you want, Cat." He laughed.

When she got to her bedroom, Cat shut the door, taking off her drenched coat, then her shirt and pants. When she let down her hair however, she gasped when she felt hands encircle her waist tightly. Turning around, she saw that it was Heath, also soaked through with rain. But he seemed to not to notice as he brought her body to his, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Because she was so surprised to actually see him in her room after so many months, Cat returned the kiss for a moment, then pulled away and asked, "What are you doing in here?"

Heath let his lips trail off to her cheek then down to her neck as he replied, "Henry's gone for the night so I've been waiting for you to come back…when I heard your voice in the kitchen I climbed up here."

As he continued kissing her neck, Cat asked, "Well do you think Francie or Ellie know you're up here?"

"What difference does it make if they do?" He murmured softly. "They're not gonna say anything…so we have all night to be together."

Cat flinched and tried to step away from him, "Heath wait,"

But Heath acted as if he didn't hear her. Pulling her body to his tightly, he continued kissing her neck, murmuring against it lowly, "I've missed this, Cat…I've missed you so much…"

Sighing, Cat averted her eyes to the ceiling in impatience and tried again, "Heath this isn't really a good—"

"Shhh…" His hands began to touch her, roaming across her body swiftly.

Now Cat was beginning to get disgusted. Grabbing hold of his hands, she tried to push him away. "_Stop_ it, Heath—"

But he only backed her against the wall, "I've got to have you again, Cat...you're mine…all mine…"

Cat squirmed against Heath frantically from her position against the wall, slapping at his hands, chest, and face, anything to get him to stop, "Heath! Heath, what the hell's your problem?!" Finally she did the only thing there seemed left to do; she rammed her knee up into his stomach, "I said _no_, now get the hell _away_ from me!"

Stumbling back, Heath winced against the pain, but still remained on his feet, looking at her in obvious hurt confusion. "Why Cat?" He asked hoarsely, a frustrated frown on his face, "Why are you pushing me away like this?"

Cat snapped, "Because I don't want to do it right now, Heath—I just don't want to, okay?"

"Your brother's going to be gone for the entire night. We hardly ever have chances like this to be together."

"Oh and I suppose that automatically means we have to have sex?" She asked sharply, going over to her bureau of clothes and taking out a sweater and some jeans.

As she put them on, Heath replied, "No, I just…missed being with you, Cat. I think about it—about being with you—all the time when we're not together. You mean everything to me, I love y—"

"Ugh, will you _stop_?!" Cat yelled, shutting her eyes in irritation as she tugged the sweater over her head. "Just do me a favor and don't say that right now, Heath, okay?" Running her hands through her hair, she groaned, "God…I just don't know what to do with you when you get like this! It's like you go crazy, or something…" Opening her eyes to look at him, Cat sighed heavily, "Look, just go back outside…leave me alone, okay?"

"You want me to go?" His voice was low and tight.

"Don't take it like that," She said, crossing her arms impatiently. "I just…need my space right now. I might come down if the rain stops later." Edgar was waiting downstairs, and she wanted to talk to him about New York- right now the only Heath was doing was getting in the way of that.

Heath looked at her for a long time in silence, before he finally stepped forward, beginning, "Cat—"

But he was cut off by the sound her bedroom door opening. Edgar walked in, a smile on his face as he said, "There you are! I thought I was going to have to send a search party out for—" He stopped when he noticed Heath standing next to her, saying in slight surprise, "Oh sorry, I guess I didn't know you had company up here right now," He slowly took in Heath's dirty, rumpled appearance from head to foot.

Cat shook her head and looked away, "I don't, he lives here with us too," Gesturing to one after the other with a nod, she added, "Edgar this is Heath, Heath this is Edgar Linton."

"Hey, how's it going, glad to meet you," Edgar extended his hand to Heath with a small smile.

Heath didn't take it.

He didn't even look at Edgar for very long, but instead just gave him a brief sweeping gaze before looking back at Cat with a stone-like expression. After a long moment like this had passed, he turned around and climbed back out of her window without a word.

"So…is he your brother?"

Cat sighed heavily, going over to the window and slamming it down shut in frustration, "No…no he's not." Pausing for a moment to regain her composure, Cat turned back around to face Edgar with a smile, "So, how about you start by telling me what Times Square is like…"


	24. Chapter 24: All Will Out

_A/N: Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and New Years (I know I did) And obviously, I got some writing done. Please read and review- you know I'm a sucker for those reviews. Thank you so much to those that are keeping with the story, I appreciate it. Oh, and I don't own Wuthering Heights or the characters from the book- as I'm sure you know. This is just one of those fanfics where a very obsessed person (like moi) tries to ease her obsession by writing about the characters she loves so much (i.e. Cathy and Heathcliff) So there's no need to bring legal action into anything XD. Until next time--Jess ;-)_

**Chapter Twenty Four: All Will Out**

Edgar stayed that first night for dinner. Cat didn't go to see Heath when the rain stopped like she said that she would. She was still talking to Edgar about New York. She invited him for the next night's dinner, to which he agreed and came. He came the following night. And the next. And the next.

As the days went by, one after the other, Edgar became more and more of a regular visitor to the house. Cat couldn't get enough of his company- to her, he represented something set apart and far away from the place of her birth. He had traveled everywhere- gone places she'd only ever dreamed of seeing. Every time he came, she urged and questioned him to tell her of those places, and the things he'd seen. His words painted a detailed picture for her of the world outside her house, the Heights and the small town they were in. He brought her pictures from some of the vacations that he had taken with his family. He answered any question she had. He was warm and affable, even funny when he wanted to be. His almost obnoxious wealth didn't seem to phase him very much- if anything, he tried to draw attention away from it. Everything about Edgar Linton was all ease and kindness.

He wasn't like any other guy she'd ever met before. Not her brother, not her father….not even like Heath.

"Oh, Ellie, he's just amazing!" Cat gushed one night, twirling around the kitchen floor, her arms spread wide. Ellie was making dinner, seasoning a pot roast. Without looking up, she urged, "Calm down, Cat. After all the man's not Tom Cruise or anything."

"He may as well be!" Cat said, leaning on the counter beside her, "He's nice, funny, cute…and rich." She exhaled shortly, "He's soo rich!"

"Yeah, and he also happens to be a Linton." Ellie reminded her, "You remember what your dad said, don't you Cat? He didn't want you around their people."

Cat sighed impatiently, "Dad didn't know Edgar, Ellie. If he did, I just know he would like him. Anybody would- even you do! Admit it!"

Ellie shook her head, "I'm not admitting anything. Those Lintons are responsible for destroying this town. And no matter how nice they seem to be, that's what they did plain and simple."

"But aside from all that," Cat urged, "You _have_ to admit that he's amazing!"

Ellei hesitated, then slowly nodded, "Yeah…he seems like a nice boy." She raised an eyebrow at Cat, "And he seems to have taken a liking to you."

Cat shrugged coyly, "Maybe he has. I don't see the crime in it. Edgar says that I'm beautiful, that my face should be plastered on every fashion magazine in the country, in the world!"

Ellie rolled her eyes, "Now there's a pick up line I've never heard before!" she muttered.

"Well don't you think it's true?" Cat asked expectantly, "I do belong in fashion magazines! And Edgar said he could help me be in them!"

"Did he?" Ellie asked, "Well, that's nice."

Cat tossed her head at her, "Don't. Don't patronize me. I believe him. Ellie do you know how rich Edgar's family is? Do you know what that kind of money means? All the important people it makes them know? They could give me opportunities I would never even dream of!"

"Oh, I see." Ellie said, "So it's Edgar's money that's nice, and not Edgar himself."

Cat sighed, "That's not what I mean. Edgar _is_ nice, and cute. I like him. But I can't ignore the opportunities that he has for me. It'd be just stupid."

"So has Edgar given any hints that he's willing to do this for you?"

Cat smiled, "He's said that he wants me to model for him. To take some shots that he can send to one of his friends in New York that runs an agency that's looking for new models."

Ellie sighed, "Cat honey, I hate to burst your bubble, but hasn't it occurred to you that Edgar may be lying about all this? That he wants something more from you than just a picture?"

Cat scowled, "Edgar's never even hinted at something like that!" She snorted and shook her head ruefully, "He's never even tried to kiss me yet!"

"Do you want him to?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. It couldn't hurt if he's going to help me."

"I'm just looking out for you like your Daddy would have wanted me to, honey." Ellie said, "You're practically a grown woman now, and you can make your own choices, but I can still give you my advice. I know that what Edgar says seems promising, but just be careful before you swallow it hook, line and sinker."

"I know what I'm doing." Cat said confidently, "And this is the right thing. I know it is."

Ellie clicked her cheek, "You just make sure that none of these pictures involve you taking any clothes off, you hear me Cat? I better not see you on the cover of Playboy in your birthday suit!"

Cat shook her head, "Nope. You'll see me on the cover of Vogue, covered in diamonds!" She glanced at the clock on the wall, and gave a small yelp, "Oh God! I've gotta hurry up and start getting ready!" she started to make for the hallway, but Ellie called out, "Get ready? Get ready for what?"

Cat came back, sticking her head in the door as she answered, "For dinner. I've got to shower, do a little something to my hair- you know."

The look on Ellie's face was a mixture of a frown and an incredulous smile. She gave a small laugh, "No, I _don't_ know! You, do a little something to your hair? Cat…what's going on here? Since when do you care what you look like for dinner- or ever?"

Cat rolled her eyes with a smile, "Since now. Problem?"

"I just wanted to know what was the occasion…." She paused before adding, "Or who?"

"It's not what you think. Really it isn't. It just occurred to me a few days ago that Edgar's different than the people around here. And he's probably used to being around girls who are…different than me. I can't expect him to be able to help me if I'm always dirty or my clothes always have grass stains, can I?"

Ellie gave a small, reflective tsk with her teeth, "Well, well, well. I never thought I'd hear that kind of talk come out of Miss Cat Ernshawl's lips. Can I get that in writing, because something tells me that you'll never believe you just said a month from now!"

Cat laughed, going off down the hall and running up the stairs. A little over a half an hour later, she was coming out of the shower and sifting through her clothes from something to wear. There was nothing very fancy in her wardrobe, but she did find a pair of white pants that she'd never worn before and a light pink blouse that she hadn't even known she owned. Putting on the clothes, Cat sat down and began taking down the thick braid that trailed down her back. Her hair spilled out in soft, rippling waves. Taking up her comb, she began briskly pulling the teeth through the locks, grimacing at the places where it tangled.

As she looked up in the mirror, she stopped short, doing a double take.

Heath was standing by the open sill of her window, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at her. Cat smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror, "Hey you!" she said brightly, "What's with the long face?"

"Where have you been?" the tone of Heath's voice made the smile instantly leave her lips. It was hard and swift; demanding. As he began to walk towards her, Cat frowned, "What do you mean?" she asked, "I've been right _here_, Heath. I haven't left the house in-"

"That's not what I mean!" he snapped now, and she could tell that he was angry, "I mean, where have you been, as in, why haven't I been able to see you? I've only seen you from a distance at the Heights. What's going on, Cat?"

"Nothing!" she retorted, her voice taking on a sharp tone of its own, "I've- I've just been busy lately, okay?" she scoffed irritably and started combing through her hair faster.

But Heath wasn't willing to leave it at that, "Busy doing what, Cat? What that's more important than our spending time together?" When she didn't speak after a few moments, he gave an impatient jerk on her arm, "Answer me!"

She slapped his hand away, beginning to feel her temper incense, "Stop it! What the hell's your problem, Heath?!"

"_My_ problem?" he repeated incredulously, pointing at his chest. Cat nodded emphatically, "Yes, _your _problem! Why are you treating me like I'm some sort of child?"

"And why are you treating me like I don't even exist anymore? Like I'm invisible?!"

"Oh God, Heath, I do not! Stop overreacting!"

"You want to know the last time you and I were alone together?" he asked- they were shouting now, "Three weeks! That's twenty one days, Cat; twenty one days since you and I even spoke to each other, since I've even been this close to you!"

Well so what?!" she burst out, throwing the comb down on the table in front of her, "What difference does that make, Heath? You're not going anywhere- and unfortunately, I still happen to be stuck here in this town. We don't have to see each other every single day, do we?"

"Why not?" he asked sharply and she snapped her head back to look at him, "I love you, Cat. I want to be near you. I want this; you and me, every day fore-"

"There is more to life than just the two of us, Heath!" she cried out frustratingly, "What is it going to take for you to get that?! Maybe you don't want anything more than this, but I do! And that is exactly what I'm trying to get: more!"

"And I suppose you're going to use Edgar Linton to get it?" he asked, his gaze cold and piercing at the same time, "Since when did you get tired of being around me, Cat? Since he pulls up here in his Corvette and thick wallet?"

The muscle in Cat's jaw was twitching and she glared at him through narrowed eyelids, "No," she said, her voice dripping with biting cynicism, "No, that happened when I found someone who could keep me interested for more than five minutes at a time! Someone who made me feel a little bit better about being stuck in this town!"

"You never acted like I bored you before, Cat. You never acted like you didn't like being with me. We were just fine until-"

"Stop acting like a baby!" she spat back, "I don't have to be sitting around with you every single second of the day! I'm trying to meet new people and get something new in my life! Why are you acting like that is such a bad thing?"

"If it takes you away from me, then it _is_ a bad thing!"

"Stop talking about me as if I were some sort of toy you're playing with- I'm my own person, Heath. You don't have a right to criticize what I do or who I do it with!"

"'_I_ don't have a right?'" he repeated incredulously, "How can you even say-"

He stopped at the sound of an engine roaring closer and closer up the driveway. They looked at each other, both knowing what it meant: Henry was home. Heath sucked in a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. Cat saw him clench his fists at his side and a muscle in his jaw twitch.

She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at him expectantly, "Well?" she said, "What are you waiting for?" She was, for the first time, glad that her brother was home and Heath had to leave before they were seen together. She didn't want to continue the conversation anymore, and she still had to finish getting ready for when Edgar came.

But Heath didn't move. Opening his eyes, he squared his jaw and replied, "We're not finished here yet," His voice was curt and stubborn.

"Oh yes we are." Cat said evenly, striding across the room to the door and opening it. She stood beside the frame, one hand holding the knob while the other was poised on her hip, "Get out. Now."

Heath stared at her for long time, and Cat saw that the hard look in his eyes began to fade away, being replaced with an altogether different one. It was bewildered and hurt. "Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly, "Tell me what I did to make you act like this."

Cat scoffed impatiently, "Fine." She said without answering his question, "If you won't get out, then I'll leave." She went out the door and slammed it behind her loudly. She'd gone a few steps down the hall when she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes shut as she sighed wearily. Turning around, Cat, walked back to her bedroom and opened the door, "Heath, I'm sorry-" she began, but stopped short. The room was empty.

He was gone.

* * *

"Cat, honey, do you think you can go to the grocery store for me?" Francie waddled into her room a few days later, her hand over her belly and a weary expression on her face, "Henry has a headache and needs some aspirin. But I, I just don't think I can make it there myself, I'm so tired."

Cat waved her hand at her breezily, "No problem. I feel like getting out right now anyway."

"The keys to the truck are on the table by the door!" Francie called after her as she went down the hall. Picking up the keys, she went out the door and down the porch steps to where her brother's pick up truck waited.

As Cat climbed in, she grimaced at the mess of mail, beer cans and other garbage that littered the inside of the truck. "Ugh," muttered under her breath, shoving the bulk of it to the passenger side. She felt an envelope from beneath her and propped herself up to retrieve it. Just as she was about to throw it to the floor, her eye was caught by the address shown in the upper left corner_, __School of Visual Arts__. _Cat's heart skipped a beat as her eyes went to the top center address line, _Heath Ernshawl._

She gave a small gasp, "Oh my God…" she murmured. The letter had already been opened and she retrieved the letter inside with trembling fingers, her eyes immediately pouring over the contents,

_Dear Mr. Ernshawl,_

_It is with great pleasure that we congratulate you upon your victory in the __School of Visual Arts__ nation- wide art contest. Your piece of art was found to be exceptional by our judges, and it is on their behalf that we bestow on you a prize of $5,000 and extend to you a personal invitation to attend the __School of Visual Arts__ in the fall. Your check will become available to you-_

Cat broke off from reading the letter, in a state of shock.

He won. Heath had won the contest. Her painting had won.

Then that meant-

Now he could move to New York after all. Now both of them could go- she to pursue her modeling career, he to go to the School of Visual Arts. They would be far away from Henry and his cruelties. Both of them would be finally be free.

Suddenly she frowned, looking back over the letter. It was dated on a day three weeks ago. And it was sitting in Henry's truck, ready to be hurled in the garbage.

She sucked in a sharp breath of realization. Henry wasn't going to tell Heath about his winning. He wasn't going to tell anyone about it. He was just going to keep him here as his own personal slave without any hope for the future. Her eyes burned and her breath became shallow with anger.

Cat took the keys out of the ignition and slammed open the door to the truck, running back into the house, the letter still clenched in her hand. Charging up the stairs, she marched into Henry's room, and slammed the door behind her loudly.

"You heartless son of a bitch!" she shouted at him.

Henry was laying across the bed, his hands on his stomach. When Cat yelled, he cracked his eyes open into slits, gazing at her lazily. "Cat, c'mon on in, sit down." He said boredly.

"Don't you play games with me Henry Ernshawl," Cat said, her voice shaking, "How could you do this? How? To me, to Heath?"

The door opened and Ellie and Francie came inside, looking concerned.

"Henry honey, what's wrong?" Francie asked cautiously, "What happened?"

Henry sat up and swung his legs over the bed, scowling. "

"Both of you get out." He said tightly.

"Henry just tell us what-"

"I said get out!" he shouted, "Get the hell out of here, now!" When they had gone, Henry stood up from the bed and came over to Cat, "Sit down." He said, sounding more calm. She glared at him as she sat down at Francie's vanity chair,

"Just tell me why Henry!" Cat said angrily, "Why would you take away the only opportunity Heath had to get out of here. Didn't it occur to you that him going to New York would get him away from you forever?"

Henry smiled at her sardonically, "Don't you think I thought of that Cat? Don't you think I wanted him as far away from me as I could get?"

"Then why-"

"The letter came about three weeks ago," he said, "About a month after you first met Edgar Linton. I read it first of course, but when I saw the news, I made a decision. I rounded up your little friend in the truck and drove him down to the airport. Then I let him read the letter. I told him that I had already paid for him a flight to New York City. I handed him an envelope filled with a two thousand bucks, enough to last him for a while. I was letting him go, without any strings attached. All I wanted was to never see his ugly little face again." Henry smiled down at her in twisted, ironic way, "And do you know what he did, Cat? That stupid son of a bitch turned me down flat. He said that he didn't want to leave here. I asked him why, but he wouldn't answer. Then that's when it all occurred to me- why he would be so stupid to turn down all of that."

He paused, looking at her pointedly. Cat waited, uncomprehending, then froze, her eyes widening, "No…" she murmured.

Henry smiled again, "Yes. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense to me. And Cat, it was _so _pathetic. The little prick was jealous, and he wasn't going to leave and risk losing you to someone else. He threw his life away, just to make sure you don't screw Edgar Linton." He laughed harshly, "He doesn't know you like I do. I know that if you really wanted to screw Linton- you'd do it right in front of your little _friend_ if you had to."

Cat's fists were clenched tightly as she stared at the floor. Her teeth ground against each other as the angry tears sprouted behind her eyes.

Henry snickered at her, "Ain't love grand, Cat?"

* * *

Cat went down to The Heights after leaving Henry's room, anger quickening her step. She was so furious she was shaking with it. She knew that her brother wouldn't try and stop her, that there would be no punishment for Heath because of her visit to him- Henry would feel like the visit was punishment enough. He had wanted this, that was why he had allowed Heath to stay, so that she could find out that he had lied to her.

She didn't care about what Henry wanted though, all she could think of was how Heath had deceived her. She'd seen him more than once in the past three weeks; he'd acted as if nothing had changed, as if he still had no idea about the status of the competition, and all along he knew he had won it. How had he even been able to look her in the face?

Cat pulled one of the doors to The Heights open a small crack and slipped inside, pulling it shut behind her. Her eyes searched the dim garage until she saw Heath sitting up on his small cot, looking at her in surprise. Getting off the bed, he began to walk over to her, the beginnings of a smile turning up his lips. She hung back where she stood, her arms folded across her chest. As he came face to face with her, Heath saw the look on Cat's face, and his smile dissolved. For a long moment, they stared at one another, until he murmured, "You know now, don't you?"

Cat said nothing, only continuing to glare up at him. Her hand twitched uncontrollably, and she suddenly felt the need to relieve it.

Her palm whipped out and began to slash through the air toward Heath's cheek.

But he was too quick for her. Just as her fingertips grazed his skin, he had clamped his own hand around her wrist, holding it fast. When she tried to jerk it away, his grip only tightened. "Don't Cat." He said quietly. "Don't do that."

"Let go of me!" she ground out through her teeth, her eyes re-flooding with tears of frustration, "No! Stop it! You son of a _bitch_! Let go of meeeee!" her voice escalated into a shriek, and she felt Heath's grip on her wrist release.

Taking her chance, she began pummeling his chest with weakened blows and hits. Heath held her shoulders tightly, trying to speak above her punches and muttered curses,

"Cat… Cat I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry!"

"No!" she kept screaming over and over again, "No, no, no, no, no!" Her voice relinquished into sobs, and she felt herself fall against Heath's chest as she began to weep brokenly. His arms enfolded her as his hands began to stroke her back. When she felt his lips in her hair however, her temper again became incensed. Shoving him away from her, she took a step back, "Get your hands off of me!" she yelled, "You bastard! You lying _bastard_!"

"Cat, let me just explain-" he began, but she cut him off,

"Explain what? How you lied to me? How you were going to keep it a secret from me? Heath what's the _matter _with you? Are you crazy? How could you do this to me, to yourself?!"

"Cat, I didn't want to go, I couldn't go-"

"That's a lie!" she spat back, "Henry told me the truth. He was willing to let you go, he told me so. It was you who blew everything, you came back! You told him not to tell me! You were going to let me go on thinking you hadn't won, that- that everything, all of that had been for nothing. And all along, you knew, you knew that-"

"I was coming back for you," Heath tried to explain, "I couldn't leave!"

"Why?" she asked wildly, "Why? Because of Edgar? Huh?" He didn't answer. Cat shook her head at him, "You coward!" she hissed, "I hate you! I hate-"

"I love you." He said swiftly, and now Cat saw his eyes began to flare up, "I _love_ you."

She shook her head, "No. Don't you dare say that to me. Not now."

Suddenly they heard the sound of a car horn from outside, followed by a voice call out, "Cat! You around?"

Cat and Heath's eyes met and she saw that his had become like stone.

Edgar.

Turning around, Cat made for the door, but was startled when she felt a sharp tug on her arm that snapped her held her fast, his grip unrelenting. Cat struggled against it, "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Why don't you ever say it back?" he asked roughly, "Why?"

"Say what back?"

"When I say that I love you, why don't you ever say you love me back?"

"Heath, you let me go," she warned, but he shook his head, "Not until… you say it back."

Cat stared up at him stubbornly, refusing to speak. Heath's eyes searched hers deeply, and she squirmed under his gaze. At last, she saw him clench his jaw again tightly, the muscle inside of it twitching. To her surprise, she felt his hands release her. His entire facial expression was rigid. Something inside of it made Cat uncomfortable and she turned around, making for the door. From behind her, she heard Heath's voice, rough and gravely, "Cat. Cat where are you going? You think you can just _walk_ away from me? Cat, get back here! _Cat_!"

She ignored him, or at least tried to, going out of the garage and back outside. It was just beginning to be dusk and she could see the headlights of Edgar's Corvette in the dimness. As she approached the house, she saw him coming out the front door and waved at him, "Hey," she said feebly, "How's it going?"

Edgar smiled brilliantly at her, his teeth gleaming, "Just fine now. I asked Ellie where you were and she said she didn't know."

"I was out in The Heights for a while." Cat said briskly, "So, what's up?"

Edgar grinned wider, and began walking back towards the car, Cat following him, "I had to come and get you. There's some people back at our house that I want you to meet. Friends from my studio in New York. They know some people in fashion. I've been telling them about you, and they seem interested."

Cat's eyes lit up, "Really? They want to meet me?"

"Yeah, here, just a second." Opening the door to the car, he took an envelope off the passenger seat and handed it to Cat, "Take a look at what's inside." He urged.

Cat opened the envelope and took out the contents. They were all photographs. Photographs of her from when she'd first met Edgar in the woods. She scanned the pictures closely, almost not believing what she saw. "Are these really of me?" she murmured.

Edgar nodded, "They absolutely are. Stunning aren't they? I knew you were a natural from the moment I laid eyes on you, Cat. My friends thought so when they saw them too. They'd like to talk to you about a possible contract."

Cat gasped, "A contract?" she asked, a frog in her throat.

Edgar nodded again, "Yeah, exciting isn't it? You and I would have to have a few more photo sessions though. They want to build up your portfolio, see how flexible you are, but I told them that shouldn't be a problem. I know you'll kill any camera in front of you."

"And you did this just for me?" Cat asked in wonder.

Edgar laughed, "Well of course I did, Cat! I wanted to, you have talent. I can't let it go to waste in this… wilderness. It'd be a crime."

Cat exhaled in deep relief. Everything hadn't been messed up after all. She still had a chance. Heath had almost ruined it all- but she still had this, "Thank you Edgar. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He returned the embrace, holding her gently. As she pulled back, he smiled down at her warmly, "Besides, I had to come up with some excuse to be around you. This is the best I could come up with."

Cat laughed, "Excuse? What makes you think you need one?"

Edgar's face softened and he reached out and swept back a piece of her hair- just like Heath used to do. "Do I?" he asked softly.

Cat smiled hesitantly, then shook her head, "No," she murmured, "You don't."

He grinned again, his hand still stroking her cheek. She felt her stomach begin to flutter; Edgar had never kissed her before. But the look in his eyes told her that he wanted to right then. He started to lower his lips to hers, and Cat closed her eyes in anticipation, waiting. After she waited for a few seconds and still felt nothing, she cracked open her eyes.

Edgar had straightened, and was looking behind her at something, the smallest of frowns on his brow. Cat followed his gaze and turned around fully to see, then stopped short.

Heath was standing just outside The Heights, his hands jammed inside his pockets as he watched them. He was standing so still, he almost looked like a statue. Even when Cat and Edgar both stared at him, he didn't move.

Reaching out blindly, Cat felt her hand close around Edgar's, "C'mon," she murmured, "Let's go."

"You sure, Cat?" he asked, "You don't want me to-"

"No." she said, her voice raising a bit, "Let's just go."

Edgar nodded and went to open the passenger door to the car for her, then getting in himself and starting the ignition.

As they drove away, they passed by The Heights on Cat's side. She purposely shut her eyes as they passed, not wanting to look at Heath. But even as the car sped off into the darkness and the Heights was far behind, she could still feel him looking at her.


	25. Chapter 25: Saying Goodbye

_A/N: Hey folks, Jess here with another update. I wish it were longer, but things have been hectic here in RL, so this is the best I can do. Hope it will suffice. Those familiar with WH knew this part was coming in some form anyway. R/R as always- much love:)_

**Chapter Twenty Five: Saying Goodbye**

"New York is too far away." Ellie argued later that night. It was about an hour after Cat had returned from the Linton mansion with Edgar after talking with his friends. They had offered her a contract with an agency, the starting salary fairly adequate with all the possibility of an improvement on the figure. However, they wanted her to come to New York where the agency headquarters were and model there, where Edgar would serve as her principal photographer. Cat had been ecstatic at the opportunity, but when she'd come home and shared the news with Ellie, Francie and Henry, Ellie had been dismayed.

"You've never left this town before in your life, Cat," she argued, "You've never been anywhere else."

"All the more reason for me to go." she persisted. "I can't pass up this chance, Ellie. You have to understand."

"Cat, so many bad things can happen to a young girl like you in a place like New York, and there won't be anyone there to protect you."

"Edgar will be there." Cat said confidently, "He promised to make sure I stayed safe. He promised."

"Ellie, I think this is a wonderful opportunity for Cat," Francie said brightly, "She's finally getting a chance to do what she wants- how many people get to say that?"

"But suppose this whole thing just goes wrong?" Ellie asked, "Suppose something happens to you."

"You really think something bad would happen to me when I was with Edgar, Ellie? Don't you trust him? I'm going to be fine."

"I have to agree with Cat," Francie said, "I trust Edgar- he's a good boy…" She smiled knowingly at Cat, "And he cares too much about her to let harm come to her."

"All the same," Ellie said stubbornly, "I don't think you should go, Cat. I don't want you to go."

"Well too bad," Henry's voice called out as he entered the room, "Because she's going. I just got off the phone with Edgar. Everything's set and arranged. He'll take good care of her, I made sure of it. And little Cat'll be sure to behave herself, won't she?" his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Cat smiled up at him, for once in months not being bothered by his antics, "It's a promise!" she assured him. She hopped down off the stool she was sitting on and walked out into the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time up to her bedroom. She'd never felt so excited in all her life. Never ever…

* * *

The cool air of the summer night felt good to Cat, making the fluttering that had been in her stomach all that day die down a little.

Tomorrow.

In just few hours tomorrow she would finally, _finally_ be leaving this town. She would be going to the city of her dreams to pursue her dreams, then that dream would come true. Cat just knew it would; Edgar had promised her and she was determined—she wasn't going to let all of this hoping and wishing be for nothing.

So as she now sat in her tree, swinging her bare legs and feet from where they hung off the branch, Cat's mind was racing with thoughts and dreams of New York, the fabulous city she was going to be at in just twenty-four short hours.

She was so wrapped up in her musings that at first she didn't hear anyone approach. It was only when he spoke that she turned and saw him; Heath.

He was standing a few feet away from the tree, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as he looked up at her. His face was wistful and shadowed.

Cat glanced at him, then looked away, "What do _you_ want?" she asked defensively.

"Ellie says you're leaving tomorrow." He said, his voice quiet.

"Yep." She answered, trying to sound flippant, "The plane leaves at ten thirty in the morning. Edgar's coming to get me at nine."

Heath was silent for a while, then went forward and began to climb the tree. In a few moments he was sitting beside her in the branch. Cat purposely tried to look away from him, knowing the look that would be on his face. Heath reached out and turned her face with his fingertips, Cat glanced up at him once, and their eyes met. His green eyes were deep with raw emotion,

"Please don't go, Cat." He whispered.

Cat scoffed annoyingly and jerked her face out of his hand, "I don't know how you can even ask me that!" she muttered, "I'm going. That's it."

"Cat, I'm sorry." He said, and she heard the earnestness in his voice, "I'm really sorry about not telling you about the contest. I tried to call them back and accept it, but it was too late, they'd already given the prize to the first runner up."

Cat gritted her teeth and let out a sharp breath, "Yeah, like I really needed to hear that!" she said tightly, jumping down from the branch. She started walking back across the field toward home, but Heath was right on her heels.

"I know how much it meant to you," he said, speed walking beside her to match her pace, "I know you wanted me to win."

"I _knew_ you would win Heath," Cat said swiftly, "And you knew it too."

"Maybe I did, but Cat, it got so that it wasn't so simple anymore. Suddenly it was about more than just winning and losing the contest."

She scoffed again, "Yeah, then it was about lying and telling the truth!"

"No! It was something else! Cat, will you just _listen _to me?" He grabbed hold of her arm and gave it a firm jerk, stopping her in her tracks.

Cat turned to look up at him, sighing heavily "What Heath? What was it about?!"

"Winning and losing you!" he shouted, then exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, he took up her hands and held them tight, "Cat… I would have went to New York. I never wanted to go in the first place, but I knew it would have made you happy- so I was prepared to go. For you, I really would have. But you wouldn't have come with me, not anymore, I saw that-"

"How do you even know that?" she retorted, "How, when you knew how bad I wanted-"

"You wouldn't have." He cut in. "Not with Edgar Linton here. You would have stayed, and tried to get him to make you a model. And I wasn't leaving without you- I couldn't." He paused, then shut his eyes again, whispering, "Cat. Listen…I know I'm not rich. I don't have a big house or a lot of money. I don't know important people-I'll probably never have any of those things. I know I can't give you the things that he can…I know that next to him I've got nothing. The only thing I own right now is myself- that's all I have to give you…" He opened his eyes and looked down into hers, "And suddenly, I got this thought in my head that that wouldn't be good enough for you anymore. I saw the way he looked at you, the way he kept coming here to see you. I saw everything that he had- and everything that I didn't… and…and I didn't want to leave you here with him. I couldn't." He paused again, and she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed deeply, "I know what people around here have said about me all these years- the names they've called me, the reasons they said your dad brought me home. I've known about them the whole time. But it never mattered to me- not really. I was here, I was with you, and you…" he reached out and brushed back a piece of her hair, "You accepted me. So I never cared if no one else did. But if I ever thought…that someday you wouldn't- that one day you'd look at me the same way they did-" his voice dropped down to a whisper, "Cat, the only thing that's more scary to me than losing you- is having to live knowing I lost you because I wasn't good enough for you. I can't do that. I can't watch you with someone else- watching him give you the things I can't….be all the things to you I can't be. I _can't_."

Cat was silent for a long moment, then sighed and stared up at him, "And is that what you think is going to happen if I leave?"

"It'd be easier than you think," Heath said, hanging his head down low, "With all those people he knows, and his money and the fame he could give you, you'd forget about us and-"

Cat put her fingers over his lips and shook her head, "No. Don't you ever say that." She said softly, "I could never forget about you. Never. Heath…" she shook her head, "What kind of a person do you think I am? Do you think I'll ever be able to fully turn my back on all of this? The Heights? Ellie? And you," she shifted her fingers to his rough cheek, "Heath, you mean more to me than anyone in the world, especially now that Dad's gone. I could never forget about you, _ever_. "

"Cat, I can't lose you to him," he said hoarsely, "I can't."

"Don't." she said, "It's…it's not like that. Heath, I willcome back. I will. Just as soon as everything works itself out with my modeling contract. Can't you see that I'm doing this for us? So that we can _always_ be together. I'll have money. Money that can help The Heights, and all of us. It'll be okay," she reached up and ran her hand through his hair with a smile, "Don't you trust me? _Me,_ Heath?"

Heath held her face in between his hands, "I love you."

"Then trust me," she urged gently. "I _will_ come back. Soon."

Heath lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, urgently. When their lips separated, he drew her head to lie on his chest and held her close. "I love you," he said over and over, "I love you…"

They stayed under the tree well into the night; it was clear and quiet. A gentle breeze shook the leaves of the tree. They were leaned up against the heavy trunk; Cat's back against Heath's chest as his legs sat on either side of her. One arm was cast across her upper torso, holding her to him, while the other hand played with hers idly, the fingers weaving and unweaving together. Her head fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and neck.

Cat's head was tilted back a little so that she could gaze into the sky, a light smile on her lips, "Aren't they beautiful?" she murmured.

"What?" he asked her.

"The stars…My mom used to tell me and Henry when we were kids that stars were ways you could communicate with people you loved …because the sky is one of the only things that everyone in the world shares. She even picked out stars for both of us," She gave a small laugh, "Me and Henry thought it was so stupid back then, we didn't bother…But now…looking at them…it doesn't seem so stupid to me now."

"Which one was yours?" he asked. Cat shook her head,

"I don't remember anymore. It didn't matter to me then."

"What about now?"

She was quiet for a long moment, "I don't know…sometimes…I see them- and I think of Dad…and if he can see us from wherever he is. If he can hear us...if he ever comes back here- as a spirit."

"You believe in that now?" Heath asked her, to which she nodded,

"I feel him. All the time. Even though I can't see him. He's still here. I know he is. When I die, I think I'll come back here too. As a spirit." She craned her neck back to look at him, smiling, "Will you be here?"

"If you are." He replied and she grinned wider, saying,

"You'd better be! If you don't, I'll haunt you until you come back here- back home."

"If you were to die, I'd be waiting here for your ghost." Heath replied softly, "I'd want you to find me- and take me with you."

Cat's smile gentled, "I know." She murmured, then raised her lips up and brought them against his. They kissed slowly; lingeringly, and Cat turned her body so that she could wrap her arms around Heath's neck. Just as it was becoming more passionate, she broke away, leaving one or two more short pecks on his lips before turning around again and leaning up against his back. His arms resumed their hold around her, and his hand stroked her hair.

For a long moment, there was silence again, then Cat raised her arm up, her index finger pointed up at the points of light in the sky, "That one," she said quietly.

"What?"

She took a hold of his hand and placed hers over it, raising it up to where hers had pointed; to a twinkling star just above them, "That was the star," she said, "Our star- the one that Mom picked out for me."

"Mmm," Heath mused calmly, "Well that makes sense then."

"Why?"

"Because it's the brightest one of them all."

Something inside of Cat yanked hard and unexpectedly. It always did when Heath said things like that. She shut her eyes as she sighed shakily, and leaned her head back against his chest. She sniffled a little bit and nuzzled her head in farther to his chest, "Sing something for me," she murmured. She felt Heath's chest bounce a little as he gave a short laugh,

"What?"

"I'm serious, Heath. I want you to sing something for me. Just this once."

"I don't sing, Cat. You know that."

"Well, you will tonight. C'mon, I'm not asking you to give a concert- just sing me a song. Any song."

She could hear the smile in his voice, "Alright then," his hands began to stroke her hair and temple where the fingers rested. In another moment, she heard a soft, smooth tenor voice in her ear, singing,

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"

Cat grinned at hearing the first two lines of the song. Her mother had sung it to her when she was very young- when she still sat in her lap and cared about those sorts of things. It had been years since she heard it- she wondered how Heath knew it.

"You'll never know dear, how much I love you," he was singing. Cat licked her lips and softly sang the last line with him, their voices blending together,

"Please don't take…my sunshine away…"

Heath continued to sing the next part, his fingers continuing to stroke her face and hair. Cat, not knowing the next verse fell silent, being lulled by the strains of his voice, "You told me once dear you really loved me, and no one could come between…but now you've left me to love another…you have shattered all of my dreams…"

Cat was drifting off to sleep- barely cognizant now. But there was something in the last verse that for a long time afterward, she would always distinctly remember disturbing her….

* * *

Cat opened her eyes at the feel of sun rays shining across her face. As she rubbed her eyes groggily, she looked around and realized that she was still outside.

She rapidly remembered that she and Heath had stayed beneath their tree last night until they both had fallen asleep. They hadn't even spoken very much, and Cat had known that it was because there had been very little to say. It was dawn now and as she glanced down at her wrist watch, she saw that it was already seven thirty.

From behind her, Heath was very still, but she knew that he was awake all the same. Nudging her elbow back, Cat murmured, "Heath?"

"Yeah?" he said quietly.

"Ellie, Henry and Francie will be up soon, I have to go."

His arms around her tightened and he kissed her hair, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, "I know."

"You coming back with me?" she asked, slightly turning her neck to face him.

Heath shook his head, "No. I'll just stay here for a while. I don't…I don't want to see you leave."

Cat nodded, understanding what he meant. "C'mon," she said softly, "Stand up."

They faced each other in silence, then Cat smiled, trying to make her voice sound bright, "Take care of Chrissy for me, will you? She likes you more than Ellie."

"Yeah, I will." He said.

"I'll write to you too, I'll just send it to Ellie in case Henry…" she trailed off, not needing to continue.

"Okay."

Cat sighed helplessly at the look in his eyes, "This won't be for long Heath. And it's for the best. It's what I want. What I've always wanted. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah I understand." He said shortly, everything in his eyes saying the opposite.

"Heath-"

He cut her off, jerking her to him and tilting her head up so that their faces were inches apart, "Just come back Cat," he whispered hoarsely, "Come back to me."

She nodded, an egg in her throat, "I will."

She thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn't, letting go and stepping away a few steps. "Goodbye Cat." He said.

"Goodbye." She answered, then slowly turned around and started walking across the field into the approaching sunlight. The egg in her throat got larger and larger iwth every step she took. Her eyes were burning and she roughly drew the back of her hand across them; almost frustratingly. For some reason, there was a hollow, sinking feeling on the inside of her; an urge to turn around and run back to Heath, run into his arms and stay there. Not go to New York. Stay here- with him. Safe.

But she only kept walking, earnestly trying to banish the sinking feeling, stamp out the urge. It was ridiculous to think that way- she was doing what was best. For her and for Heath. He had to believe that.

_She_ had to believe it.

Cat kept walking, faster and faster, until she was now running across the field. The air hit her in the face, stinging at the moisture in her eyes- she only ran harder.

Several times she wanted to look back, but she never did. Not once.

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts, Cat." Edgar said gently.

Cat started and turned away from the window to look back at him in the seat beside her, "What?" she asked faintly. It was five hours later, and the two of them were sitting side by side in the first class seating of the airplane. She'd been quiet the entire time, her mind absorbed with thoughts.

"I'd like to know what you're thinking," Edgar said, "What's going on in that beautiful head?"

She smiled and shrugged, "I don't know, I guess I'm just a little… nervous."

"Hey, it's alright." He assured her, "Don't be nervous. You're gonna be just fine."

"Ellie was so worried for me when we left, I almost feel bad." She said, more to herself than to him.

"You'll be staying with my mom and my sister in our pent house: trust me that's more than enough chaperones!" he joked.

"What are they like?" she asked curiously.

Edgar shrugged, leaning back in his chair, "Mom? She's fine; sophisticated, quiet, those sort of things. She's a real lady. Rubs off on everyone around her. And Isabella- she's uh…" he paused with a smile, "She's Isabella."

"A real handful?"

"Let's just say when she knows what she wants, she goes after it. She's more like my dad; assertive, outgoing and confident."

"You mean like me!" Cat said with a grin.

Edgar looked back at her and shook his head, "No, I don't think so. You're different from her; more spunk and…stronger, somehow."

"Well I'll take that as a compliment!" she said cheerfully.

He leaned forward suddenly and gestured to the window, "Look," he said.

Cat stared out the window into the clouds and frowned, shaking her head, "I don't see anything."

He scooted closer so that his head was nearly resting on her shoulder, "Just wait…" he said in her ear. The two of them stared into the clouds that slowly seemed to thin out, until Cat could faintly make out shapes in the distance.

It was then that the clouds seemed to completely evaporate, clearing the sky, and Cat gasped in delight as she saw the Statue of Liberty, flanked by sky scraper upon sky scraper in the background. "There…" Edgar's voice murmured in her ear. The captain's voice came on over the intercom,

"Alright folks, here we are: may we welcome you to New York City."

Cat gave a small laugh as the plane approached closer and closer to the city, "It's so beautiful!" she breathed. She turned back and grinned at Edgar who was smiling back at her warmly,

"Welcome to New York, Cat Ernshawl."

* * *

_A/N: I don't own the lyrics to You Are My Sunshine. Someone does, but it's not me._


	26. Chapter 26: Welcome to New York

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, RL issues again getting between me and my writing...read and let me know what you think...thanks a million--Jess  
_

**Chapter Twenty Six: Welcome to New York**

"It's so big!" Cat exclaimed. Her head was stuck out the window of the limousine taking them to Edgar's pent house, just as it had been since they had left the airport. She'd didn't want to miss a single detail of this marvelous, busy city. She craned her neck back to look at the towering buildings, in awe of their height and beauty, gasping every other minute at a new one.

She had never seen a place like this in her entire life.

"Edgar, it's so big!" she repeated excitedly, "How can one place be so big?"

Edgar laughed, gently tugging on her hand, "Come on back in, Cat, it's not going anywhere. I promise, later on you and I will go and explore every inch of this city if you want."

She leaned back in her seat, "I can't believe I ever existed without seeing this place! Everything's seems so alive here, so awake!"

"It's the city that never sleeps," he agreed, "A lot going on, all the time."

"It's perfect," Cat said dreamily, "Just perfect."

"Hardly, Cat. New York isn't all that glamorous of a place; most of it's real dirty and crowded. Your home town's really more prettier than New York."

She laughed, "Very funny. If anything is dirty and unattractive, it's my home town."

"I don't think you hate it as much as you put on, Cat."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked distractedly.

"Everyone's attached to where they come from," Edgar said, "Even if we don't want to be- there's something about home that'll always bring us back. Don't you think that?"

"I'm not sure," she said briskly, "I used to think a place was just a place- that it couldn't make you do anything."

"And now?"

She paused, unsure of how to answer. The limousine suddenly began to slow down and pull up on a curb. Cat anxiously looked out the window, "Is this it? Are we here?"

Edgar nodded, "Yep. This is home."

The building was dark red brick, with cement steps leading up to a pair of mahagony double doors with frosted window panes. The driver opened the door and Edgar got out and offered his hand to Cat, leading her up the steps and taking a ring of keys out of his pocket.

He opened the door and they went inside, Cat going in first. She stopped just inside the doorway, looking around.

Everything she saw was elegant and sophisticated; evidence of limitless wealth and prosperity. She was only standing in the hallway, and Cat could already tell that the Lintons were of the kind of wealth that didn't require great displays or proof. It was a subtle, yet controlled wealth that made it all the more obvious.

"You alright?" Edgar asked, "C'mon, don't just hover in the doorway, let me show you around.

"This is the living room- no one really goes in there, it's my mother's showpiece. She's terrified to let anyone sit on her white suede furniture… My dad's study's through those sliding doors, his sanctuary...The family painting- done three years ago- I'll thank you not to say anything about my hair cut though, I was going through a phase…Of course the unforgettable, glamorous closet…Here's the Morning room- whatever those are for- with the new piano that my mother had to have for Christmas. She's actually really good at it too…Dining room, just in case you want to feed the Coast Guard, we have room for them in there… Kitchen's back through there, I don't have to tell you that we spend very little time there- our housekeeper's the queen of that castle…Oh, my sister's very proud of this painting- a Monet original, and very expensive too. I think she paid," he paused in front of the painting and squinted his eyes, "Uh…ten for it."

"Ten thousand?" Cat asked in awe. She didn't even know who the Monet person was, but he must have been someone very important. That wasn't what had impressed her the most though- it was the price Edgar's sister had paid for the painting- which she didn't think looked all that great anyway. Ten thousand dollars.... She couldn't even imagine having that much money. But Edgar smiled at her, giving a small laugh as he shook his head, "Uh, no, Cat. Not ten thousand."

"Million," a female voice from behind them called out, "It was $10.5 _million_, actually."

Cat turned and saw a tall, willowy woman standing at the other end of the hallway, her hand on her hip. Her hair was a soft, pure blonde, her eyes the same gentle blue as Edgar's. As she came toward them, Cat noticed that she walked like she was on a runway; in long, confident strides.

Edgar was smiling at her wryly, "My mistake." He said, "I know how important it is to you that everyone knows how much it cost."

"Just having it there's enough, Hello there," she said to Cat without taking a breath, "You must be the girl Edgar hasn't been able to shut up about for the past month. Cathhherine, isn't it?" she asked uncertainly, extending her hand.

Cat instantly took it, "Catherine Ernshawl. But everyone just calls me Cat."

"Cat, right." The woman repeated, "Well Cat, since my brother is being very ungentlemanly, I'll just introduce myself. I'm Isabella Linton, his older sister. I know he's told you all about me."

Cat glanced at Edgar, who rolled his eyes, then smiled apologetically at Isabella, "I'm sorry, he really hasn't."

"Unsurprising." She said dryly, "But that's alright. Seeing you now I understand. Edgar said you were pretty, but I never go on word of mouth. Now though, I think you've made me a believer, Cat."

Cat laughed, "Oh…thank you."

"Isabella, do we really need to be talking about that now?" Edgar asked, a tight smile on his lips.

"Am I embarrassing you, Edgar?" she asked, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Just a little."

"Well don't worry too much, it's just my job. But I think you've got something in Cat here." She turned back to Cat, "So I hear you're a model?"

"Well I…I want to be." Cat stammered.

"I think you may be just right for it," Edgar's sister answered, she was studying her intently now, "Yeah," she murmured, "All she needs is a little makeup; some mascara to bring out her eyes, red lipstick to thicken the lips, and new clothes of course-"

"Alright that's enough!" Edgar interjected, "We'll leave all that to the pros Isabelle, so go back to your little art studio."

She rolled her eyes with a smile, "Just because I'm rich, successful and _self_ -employed doesn't mean you can throw a tantrum, little brother!"

He laughed and mussed her hair playfully, pulling her into a side- embrace. Cat watched them with a faint smile, feeling wistful. She felt a fleeting wish that she and Henry had been that close to each other in growing up. As far back as she could remember, she had hated him. The chances of that changing were very unlikely.

"Edgar? Darling, is that you?" A clear, feminine voice from upstairs wafted into the hall. Edgar smiled and called up,

"Yeah Mom, it's me. We're in the hallway."

A few moments later, a woman in a white linen pant suit came down the stairs and into the hallway. She was a small lady, her white hair in a stylish cut that framed her clear complexioned face. When she saw Edgar, her eyes lit up and she quickened her graceful pace, her hands outstretched, "Oh there you are!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck, "I thought I heard your voice. Isabelle must have told me a hundred times, but I just kept forgetting when your plane was getting in."

He hugged her back, then drew away, gesturing to Cat, who shifted awkwardly, "Mom, this is the girl I was telling you about. The one from the new vacation town Dad's building in; Catherine Ernshawl. Cat, this is my mother, Linda Linton."

Linda fixed her eyes on Cat and smiled, "Hello, Catherine. My son's told me so much about you. May I say what a very beautiful girl you are?"

Cat blushed, "Thank you so much ma'am."

"You must be tired, I already had a guest room prepared for you. If you'll just follow me, I'll show it to you."

"I'll come too!" Isabella offered. She took up Cat's arm and patted it familiarly, "I'd like to get to you a little better."

"Isabella, don't you have something else you could be doing?" Edgar asked playfully.

"Nope, but you do!" she retorted, "Hugh Bates called you a few hours ago, and he said it was important."

He sighed heavily and looked to Cat, "Do you mind Cat? This won't take too long."

She shook her head, "No, it's fine." Honestly, she felt intimidated by Edgar's house and the female counterparts of his family, but she was trying to disguise that.

"C'mon Cat," Isabella said, "Let's get you settled for some good old fashioned girl talk."

"Don't overwhelm her Isabelle," Linda said as they walked back down the hall toward the staircase, "She's our guest. My daughter has a tendency to ask too many questions," she explained to Cat, "Just ignore her any time you want."

The three of them mounted the staircase, which elegantly spiraled up along the wall and stretched another three stories. Cat looked above and around her in wonder, remembering the cramped, creaky staircase back at home as she climbed this spacious one covered in plush white carpeting.

"How long are you going to be in New York, Cat?" Isabelle asked her.

"Well...I don't know," Cat said, "It's not really-"

"If you stay through September you can attend my gallery's upcoming exhibit."

September. September was three months away. Even Cat hadn't counted on being away from home that long.

"Maybe," she offered ,"We'll see I guess."

"While we get you unpacked you can tell me everything about your hometown. Edgar says it's beautiful."

Cat shrugged, "It's okay I guess. I mean, I've lived there all my life so-"

"You don't have to explain," Isabella said breezily, "I understand completely. It's how I feel about New York. After a while, it just wears off on you."

"But how?" Cat asked, "With all there is here-"

"It gets old." She answered boredly, "After a while, you've seen it all, and you want to see is the next place. People say that your home is where your heart is but," she shook her head and frowned, "I can't seem to plant mine anywhere."

The three of them walked down a long pristine hallway and stopped at a door in the middle, "Here we are," Linda said, opening the door, "Your bags have already been brought up. Well? What do you think of it?"

Cat hovered in the doorway, looking around the bedroom. It was beautiful. The room looked as though it had been made for a queen, from the enormous bed in its centre, to the elaborate furniture that matched the frame. The bed spread and curtains were light, spring colors that complimented each other perfectly. There was a pleasant aroma that filled the air, and her two suitcases were neatly placed beside the bed.

"It's absolutely perfect," she breathed, "Thank you."

"Funny," Isabelle said, sitting down on the bed, "Mom's been wanting to remodel this room for months now, haven't you Mom?"

"I just think it needs a change," Linda said briskly, "It's so different from the rest of the house- but if you like it Catherine, I'm glad."

Cat nodded, "Absolutely. I've never seen a house like this in my entire life. They don't have them back home."

Linda went over to the side of the bed and picked up one of the suitcases, "Here, let me help you with this,"

Cat reached for it, "Oh ma'am, please. You don't have to-"

"No, please," she said breezily, "I insist. Isabella dear, why don't you help as well?" her voice was gentle, but left no room for argument and Isabella began taking out Cat's clothes from the suitcases and placing them in the empty dresser drawers.

"So Edgar tells me you've never been to New York, Cat."

She shook her head, "No, but I've always wanted to."

"You like parties? "

"I… haven't really been to any." Cat stammered. The truth was that she had never been to any, besides the birthday parties of her former classmates in the past.

"Well you can't go to New York without going to a New York party!" Isabella exclaimed, "Mom, are there any parties coming up we can take Cat to?"

Linda paused, "Hmm…actually yes. They're not exactly parties, but they should be exciting. We've been getting invitations to a number of fashion shows that she might be interested in going to. I'm not crazy about fashion so I usually decline, but in lieu of her arrival, I'd be glad to take her to some. Or you two could take my tickets instead."

Cat's eyes widened and her breath shallowed as she heard Linda speak. New York fashion shows. She would be able to go to a real high fashion exhibit. If she were there with a Linton, there was no telling the people she could be able to meet, the opportunities she could-

"I meant more like a party, party Mom." Isabella was saying, "Cat needs a little night life to loosen her up."

Linda tossed her hand breezily, "Oh Isabella, you know I'm no use for that. I haven't been to one of your nightclubs in years."

"How about it Cat?" she said, nudging Cat in the side playfully, "You up for a little fun tonight? We'll even bring Edgar along- you know he hates night clubs, right?"

Cat laughed gently, "That sounds like fun!" the smile gradually left her face when she saw the growing expressions on Isabella and Linda's faces as they looked more closely at her clothes. Isabella held up a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knees and frayed at the bottoms, "Are all your clothes like this?" she asked.

Cat's mouth opened and shut awkwardly as she watched Linda frown at the pile of t-shirts she extracted from a suitcase. It had never occurred to her that there had been something wrong with her clothes. Back at home, everyone else had dressed just like her. She didn't thinks he remembered the last time she'd seen her dad in a suit before he died. Ellie usually wore jeans and t shirts, and Heath always did. Now that she thought about it, Cat didn't think she'd owned a dress since she was five years old. She'd always hated them. But now as she watched Isabella and Linda examine her clothes, she felt ashamed of their worn quality. Some had grass and mud stains that Ellie had been unable to wash out, and hardly any were form fitting or feminine in the least. Cat's clothes had fit her purposes of romping through the woods and climbing trees- now they were embarrassing her.

"Well I…I dressed kind of casual back at home." She said feebly.

Linda nodded uncertainly, "I see." She said, "I see."

"Listen, Cat." Isabella said cautiously, "I don't want you to take this the wrong way but…maybe you could think about…broadening your wardrobe a little bit?"

"Isabella-" her mother began.

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with her clothes! I'm just trying to say that they could be… a little more fancier, that's all."

"Catherine, what Isabella is trying to say, is that…a more formal wardrobe might make a better impression on those in a position to help you. I don't know much about fashion, but I do know that it is all about appearances. So…we have to appear a certain way, do you understand?"

Cat replied, "So…I'll have to change the way I dress?"

Isabella gave her a small smile and rubbed her shoulder encouragingly, "Not so much as change- just improve it. Don't worry, me and Mom will help you with everything. We know the best stores to shop at, and I know what the latest fashions are. We'll have you looking like a model in no time."

_I thought I already looked like a model, _Cat thought to herself. But she smiled and nodded, "Thanks for the advice. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem hon," Isabella said, "Just place yourself in our hands, and you'll be just fine."

* * *

The very next morning, Isabella and Linda took Cat to practically every store on Madison Avenue. Cat was shuffled from store to store; Chanel, Gucci, Prada, Hermes, Dolce and Gabbana, she went from one to the other, trying on piles of clothes, shoes and accessories. Isabella and Linda scrutinized every outfit she tried on, attempting to pin point what particular style suited her, and what didn't. Sometimes they disagreed and entered into disputes. They would bicker and argue together for what sometimes seemed forever, while Cat hovered in the dressing room door, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed.

She was stunned that they were willing to spend so much money on someone who was practically a stranger; even more surprised than she had been when she discovered how expensive the clothing really was. The first price tag she had looked at had made Cat enter into a panic. But Isabella had picked it up off the rack and handed it back to her, "It's beautiful," she said, "Get it." Everything went on numerous plastic credit cards tucked into Linda or Isabella's purses. Everywhere they went, they were treated like queens, and it became evident to Cat that the Linton name was able to attain practically anything. The stylists of the stores and boutiques eyed her curiously, and she could tell that they knew she was different than the two women with her. Isabella and Linda carried themselves in such a way that commanded attention and respect. They were confident, graceful and comfortable in this environment; Cat wasn't either of those things.

It wasn't that she thought the clothing was ugly; it wasn't. What's more, Cat had to admit that she looked good in them. Very good.

It was just that she didn't feel comfortable in them. She felt like she was playing dress up in ostentacious costumes. Her legs felt strange when released from the familiar feel of denim jeans and bared to the air from dresses and skirts with high slits. She felt self conscious about the fact that the pants that she did get sharply outlined the curves of her hips and bottom. She had absolutely no experience of walking in the high heeled shoes and boots they bought her. When she tried to walk in them at the store, her legs wobbled and she tripped several times; she had lost all of her sense of balance. Linda told her she would get used to them in no time, but Cat wasn't so sure that was true. And no matter how strongly Isabella assured her, Cat knew she would never get used to wearing low cut tops that bared the tops of her round, firm breasts.

She found herself longing for the covering of baggy t- shirts and sagging jeans, the comfort of her beat up sneakers. They had been apart of who she was, and now they were slowly beginning to vanish.

As if all of this had been enough, one of the stylists at Christian Dior mentioned to Isabella that if Cat wanted to be a serious model, she would need a hair cut and some intense highlights. Isabella and Linda had had Cat take down her long, thick braid and examined her hair thoroughly, before deciding he was right.

Cat found herself being ushered down the street to Salon Eliut Rivera and being introduced to the Linton's primary hair stylist. She had combed out Cat's hair and within minutes began talking of the vision she had to do with it. Cat had made a feeble protest, saying that she liked her hair the way it was, but Isabella was adamant,

"This is what models do all the time, Cat. They make physical changes to themselves to advance their careers. This is going to give you a new, fresh look that is exactly what's happening in the fashion world right now. Just wait, you're going to love it."

Within two hours, Cat had lost three inches off of her hair, so that now it only fell just below her shoulders; thick, bouncy and highlighted with subtle auburn streaks.

Following this, a make up artist at the salon had been called over and spent ten minutes turning Cat's face in her hands, analyzing the structure of her cheek bones, her profile, her eyes and her lips. One hour later, she had applied a flawless coat of makeup to Cat's face. To Cat, it was caking and discomforting. She'd never so much as played with makeup as a little girl before, and the truth was that she hated it, even more so when it was on her face.

When she was finally allowed to look at herself in a mirror, she almost didn't recognize the girl who stared back at her. The face was beautiful. Extremely so. Every detail about it seemed perfect.

But it wasn't her. It just…wasn't.

For a long moment, Cat sat motionless before the mirror, at a loss for words. Isabella nudged her playfully, "Well? What do you think?"

Cat smoothed back a piece of her hair awkwardly, "It's um…it's nice. It's really nice."

The hair stylist laughed, "Just nice? Darling, you look like an angel! Please, give me a little more credit than that!"

They all laughed, and Cat feebly tried to join in, "No, I mean, I think it's fantastic, but I just…"

"'Just'?" Linda said.

"I'm just not used to this," she touched her face gently, "It'll take some getting used to you, you know?"

The makeup artist patted her arm, "It's a brand new you honey. A _better _you."

"Yeah," Cat said, her voice soft, "A better me."

* * *

"Wow…" Edgar said when he saw her later that night. He stared at Cat for a long time, his gaze flickering up and down her body.

She fingered her hair with one hand and used the other to straighten her silk skirt. "You like it?" she asked uncertainly.

He came closer to her, his eyes locking onto hers. He grazed his fingers over the side of her face, "Cat, you look beautiful."

"Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah…_really _beautiful."

"God, I feel so self-conscious." She said.

"You should," he agreed, "You step out side looking like that and you'll have every man in New York falling over them selves to ask you out on a date."

Cat laughed, "Oh c'mon!"

"No, it's true." He stepped closer and touched her cheek again, "Which is why I have to make sure you turn them all down- and spend all your free time with me."

"Edgar," she began cautiously, and he nodded with a wry smile,

"Yeah, I know. Too fast, right?"

"I just don't want it to get-"

"Complicated." He finished, "I understand that. But Cat," he tipped her chin up, "You know I would never take advantage of you, right? I would never hurt you."

"I know that." She quickly answered, "And I know you've done so much for me these past two months, but… we have only known each other _two months_, and I-"

"Shh," he said, shaking his head patiently. "Look Cat, I just want you to know that I know."

She frowned up at him, "You know…?"

"I know about you and Heath."

Cat froze and stared at him for a long moment, "H-Heath?" her voice caught, and ended up as a low rasp. But Edgar only smiled calmly and nodded, "Yeah. I know you and him had something going on. Anyone would have to be blind not to see it. I know everyone has their first love- and I have a feeling Heath was yours, and it's fine with me Cat. It really is."

"Me and Heath's relationship was…complicated." She feebly attempted to explain.

Edgar cocked his head to the side, "Was? Or still is?"

She looked away, not answering.

"Cat, listen to me. I know we just met a few months ago, but I hope you can trust me enough as a friend to not get offended by this. I hope you feel like we're close enough so that you can trust me…and take a little advice."

"What kind of advice?"

"Your life is changing now. You think it's different now- I can promise you, it's going to get even more new. You're going to meet new people, see new places and have new experiences that may make you feel…really detached from the life you used to have…and maybe even from the people you knew from that life. I know that some people can make that transition really easily and maintain a balance between the two worlds…but I don't think it's something that you should try and do just yet."

""I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

Edgar sighed heavily, then answered, "Cat…I think you should try and focus on the life you're going to build here. Completely focus on it. Even if that means…putting your other life…on the back burner for a while."

Cat looked at him, her expression becoming dull and wistful, "You mean you want me to put Heath on the back burner for a while?" He sighed again, and she pressed, "Don't you? That's it, isn't it?"

"I don't know Heath very well, Cat. I'm not gonna pretend like I do. But…I have seen the way he acts around you. I see the way he affects you…and I don't think it's good for you. Not just for modeling, but…period. I know he probably cares about you very much, but I can't help but think that he's taking you further and further away from the things that you've always wanted. Am I wrong here…or am I even a little right?"

Silenced into shame, Cat chewed the bottom of her lip, unable to say anything in her defense.

"I know this sounds completely wrong," Edgar was saying, "I know that I must sound like the most arrogant jerk in the world but I just think you should think about it. At least just a little."

"What am I supposed to do, Edgar?" she asked, "Forget about him?"

"Of course not Cat." He answered, "Heath was a big part of your life, you could never forget him….But that part of your life is over. Now, you're starting a new life. With new people."

She was quiet for a long time, then smiled at him almost bleakly, "New people meaning you?"

Edgar shook his head, "I told you, Cat. I would never take advantage of you. I don't want to force you into anything. I'm only here to help you. Haven't I been doing that?'

Cat nodded, "Yeah." She whispered, "Yeah you have…Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth."


	27. Chapter 27: While in New York

_A/N: I know I suck for taking so long-again. Hopefully you all are still out there and are still willing to read and review. Enjoy it. And let me know if you do. Thanks to the moon:)--Jess_

**Chapter Twenty Seven: While in New York…**

"Well she's very pretty, Edgar." Otis Riley was the manger representing the agency that Cat would sign to. He was tall, bald and dressed to kill. He circled Cat slowly, peering at her from over rimless Gucci glasses. "Even prettier than when I saw in her that dirt splat of a town. Now she looks more high fashion instead of catalog." He nodded to the black leather book on his desk, "Her portfolio needs work though."

Edgar exchanged a glance with Cat and frowned, "What's wrong with it?"

"All the photos you took make her look too safe, too girl next door. I want to see her more sexy and edgier." He shrugged, "Or else she's just like dozens of other pretty girls in New York."

"Okay, so what do we do?"

Otis paused, tapping his chin with his index finger, "I'll arrange a few photo shoots for her. We have a few clients who are interested in the kind of look she has. I'm thinking a mix between Screen Queen and The Vamp Girl…"

Cat frowned in confusion, "What- What are those?"

Otis stared at her for moment as if he was surprised she would ask, "Screen Queen is the glamour of the Golden Era of Hollywood, darling. She's the Golden Girl that everyone wants to be. Greta Garbo, Ava Gardner, Joan Crawford…" he trailed off expectantly, but Cat stared back at him blankly. He shook his head, "Never mind. The Vamp Girl is smoldering, sleek and sexy. She's the one who's able to steal the glance of every man in the room- married or single. All attitude, all sex appeal."

"You mean she's a…whore?"

Otis looked alarmed, "Darling no! No, no, no. The Vamp Girl commands respect and appreciation with one look of her eyes. She knows she is gorgeous and guards her body like a temple. Everyone wants her, but almost no one is able to have her."

"And that's what you want me to be?" Cat asked uncertainly. Neither of the personalities Otis described sounded like her at all.

He smiled at her, "No darling. That's what you _are_."

**********************************

"Okay Cat," Edgar said, "Let's just try and relax and have fun with this."

Cat was laying down on a mini sofa of the set of one of her new photo shoots. She was wearing a tan mini dress with long sleeves that hugged her body closely, it's slits rising high up her thighs and dipping down to slightly expose the curves of her breasts. Smoky make up had been applied to her eyes to make them pop out boldly, while her lips were thinly coated in clear lip gloss.

Edgar was standing a few feet away, his Nikon already poised in his hand. Surrounding him were Otis and a few other art directors for the shoot. The hair and makeup artists were also standing nearby.

"Remember Cat," Otis said, "Think Vamp Girl, but with the sophistication of the Screen Queen!"

As Edgar raised his camera up, Cat positioned herself into her first pose, laying her right hand on her hip as she looked into the camera,

"Try and keep it looking as natural as possible, Cat!" one of the art directors called out as Edgar's camera clicked.

"Don't force it!" _Click._

"Relax your face!" _Click._

"Smile with your eyes, not your lips!" _Click._

"Let your hand drift, and try not to move it so quickly!" _Click._

"Eyes on me, Cat." Edgar said. He was in his photographer mode, where he was completely focused on his art. He moved around here and there, shooting from different angles. "Look at me like I'm taking you by surprise." _Click_.

"Open you mouth a little!" _Click._

"Put your hand in your hair!" _Click._

"Lay the other one on the couch…flatten it!" _Click._

"Relax your face!" _Click._

"Hold that look, don't move!" _Click._

"Good Cat!" Edgar said, "That's perfect!" _Click._

"Beautiful!" _Click. Click._

"That's it!" _Click. Click. Click._

Cat gracefully shifted about on the sofa, carefully changing her facial expressions in between takes. She tried to imagine the kind of person she was pretending to be, and what she would look like, how she would move. Before long it was becoming easier and easier to her, and suddenly she _was_ that girl, not just in this photo shoot but the rest as well, posing how Edgar and the directors told her to, smiling, pouting, and glaring how they told her to. Soon, an entire afternoon had went by, and Edgar was flashing his camera in her face for one final time that day,

"And…done!" he said, lowering it away from his eyes. He beamed at her, "_Excellent _work, beautiful!"

"You owned it, Cat!" Otis agreed, "Without a doubt, today was yours!"

Cat sighed in relief, and fell against the sofa with a grin, "Thank God!"

Edgar beckoned to her with his hand, "C'mon, you've gotta be tired. Let's get you out of those clothes so we can get out of here."

"Speaking of which Cat," Otis said, "There's going to be a party tonight at Henri's pent house with some designers there that I'd like you to meet. Are you available?"

Cat paused, "You know Otis, I don't know." She began, "I'm really kind of tired-"

"Oh Cat, that's no excuse!" he said dismissively, "Everyone in the fashion industry's tired! None of us get any rest, you'll be fine. Edgar tell her she'll be alright."

Edgar looked at her sheepishly and shrugged, "It could be a great way to meet people, Cat. I'd go."

Cat hesitated for one more moment, then nodded slowly, "Alright." She said softly, "I'll go."

****************************

The next few weeks were a blur for Cat. Between photo shoots, go sees and parties, she barely had time to catch a moment of rest or privacy. Her new, edgy photo shoots with Edgar and Otis, combined with her new look, were enough to book her two runway shows with top fashion designers. In addition to this, she quickly picked up on attaining a unique walk that fit her style and stood out on a runway.

When she did a photo shoot, she was shot by mostly Edgar, but on occasion, a guest photographer with beneficial connections was called in. Sometimes they could be frustrating, as the guest photographer wanted something different than what she was accustomed to, but Cat usually managed to deliver, and as a result secure herself even more appreciation from someone of influence.

With her new popularity came an expectation of her to make numerous appearances. Otis insisted on her attending party after party, event after event. There was always someone new for her to meet, someone who had seen her picture here or there and wanted to meet her in person. Cat met designers, photographers, magazine editors, creative directors and other faces with which she could never remember the name.

In all of these appearances, she learned to take on a completely different persona. Otis told her that if she wanted to make herself more memorable she had to be more confident, more outgoing. She had to stand and sit a certain way, speak in a specific kind of voice, even laugh in a set manner.

All of this was difficult, but none of it compared to the day when Otis told her that her name wasn't right for the fashion industry,

"The name 'Cat' just doesn't cut it darling." He had said simply, "If we want to make you sophisticated, it will have to be Catherine- Cathy at least."

Cat hated her full name. She'd always hated it. That was why everyone had always called her Cat. But after that, Edgar, Isabella nad everyone else she knew in New York stopped calling her 'Cat' and used only 'Catherine.' It took a lot of getting used to- sometimes she would have to hear the name twice to even look up- not even realizing someone was talking to her.

As if this weren't enough, upon learning of her background and family, Otis had suggested "dressing it up a bit," omitting the details he found to be irrevelant or dodgy.

Heath had been one of them. Cat wasn't to mention him to anyone, and was discouraged from communicating with him as well.

"It just makes things complicated darling," Otis said, "Best to drop dead weight early."

He even discouraged her from talking about Ellie and Henry. "Too many questions as far as they're concerned." He said.

Cat had been incredulous. She'd never imagined that becoming a model would require her to turn her back on her family. But Edgar swore that wasn't what she was being asked to do,

"Cat, this is just to avoid paparazzi gossip later on. No one's asking you to forget anyone. Otis would never ask you to do that."

But Cat wasn't sure about that. She _was _forgetting. She was finding it hard to remember so many things about her home. She couldn't remember the smell of Ellie's cooking, the way to the cave in the woods. And Heath- Cat was even finding it hard to remember what his face looked like. She never wrote to Ellie or Heath like she had promised. At first she told herself that it was because she didn't have time, but as time went by, she began to admit that it was because she was becoming a different person. And this person was distancing herself more and more from that old life she once knew. True, she and Ellie spoke to each other once or twice on the phone, but after the third conversation, Cat could tell that Ellie noticed the change that was taking over her. She noticed, and knew what it meant. Eventually she stopped calling her.

Before she knew it, three months had gone by. Her life had completely changed. _She _had completely changed. Cat didn't know if she was happy or not. She was too busy to notice anymore. And strangely, she was glad that she didn't have time to make the reflection. She was afraid of what she would find if she did.

********************************

"Knock, knock Beautiful." Cat turned around and saw Edgar standing in the doorway of her room, a warm smile on his lips.

She managed to return the grin, even though her face felt strained. "Hey," she said faintly, "Come in."

As he came over to sit beside her on the bed she asked, "It's quiet around here, where is everyone?"

"My parents are at a dinner party, Isabella's at her gallery's new opening, and Consuela's got the night off. Look's like it's just me and you tonight."

"And I don't have a thing to do!" Cat said in exhausted relief. "Oh, thank God! I felt sure Otis was going to make me go to that cocktail party at Kelly's."

Edgar smiled wryly, "He was. But I told him you needed a rest. This'll be your first night off in how long?"

She groaned, "Don't ask! Thank you though, Edgar, for getting me off the hook. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me for anything," he said, "Everything that you get you deserve, Catherine. Everything." He reached out and pushed back a piece of her hair, "I want you to know how proud I am of you."

She smiled lightly at him, "Oh yeah?"

He nodded, "Yes. It's been real crazy for a while now, and a lot of other girls would have cracked under all this pressure- believe me, I've seen it happen. But you've stuck it through. I'm proud of you for that Catherine. You're one strong woman."

"Or stubborn." She offered, "As my mother would say."

He shook his head, "Strong or stubborn- I'll like you either way."

She rolled her eyes, "You don't have a stubborn bone in your body, Edgar."

"But that's what I love about you Catherine. You're the complete opposite of me- and yet I'm crazy about you!" he laughed softly, "It must be true what they say about opposites!"

"Or you're just crazy!" she replied.

Edgar shook his head, "No…I think it's something else…I think I'm in love with you."

Cat stared at him for a long moment, stunned into silence. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah," he said earnestly, taking up her hands, "Yeah, it's true. I love you Catherine. I have for a real long time now. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. Having you here with me for the past few months has been incredible. I love being with you, I love photographing you, I love just looking at you. You've completed my life- you completed me."

Cat looked away, suddenly finding the room hot ad stuffy, "Edgar," she murmured stiffly, "Please don't talk like-"

"Just hear me out, okay?" he said urgently, "Listen to me. I've been doing a lot of thinking. About us. About our future. Together. I think we have something Catherine. I felt it that first day in the woods, remember? You felt it too. We felt something for each other even then. I ignored it for while- then I ignored it even longer when you first came to New York and told me you wanted to take things slow. I figured I would give you your space, let you sort things out…get over Heath."

Cat snapped her head back around at the mention of Heath's name, "Wha-" she breathed.

Edgar shook his head with a small smile, "I know that you felt something for him once- maybe you still do. But please- let me show why I think I can love you better. He doesn't love you like I do Catherine. He can't. He can't give you all the things I can. I will do anything for you. I swear it. I'll pay off any bill your family has; your mom and dad's hospital and funeral expenses, the loans your dad owes to the bank, the mortgage to The Heights- I'll give the whole building to Henry."

Cat stared at him, aghast, "How do you know about all of that?" she asked in horror.

He only smiled, "I don't want you to have to worry about anything. Just wake up every morning and be with me- that's all I want you to do. Let me take care of you. Let me make you happy. "

"Edgar don't say all of this, you've already done enough for me." Cat's voice was shaking and she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Then do something for me." He said steadily. Getting up off the bed but still holding her hand, Edgar knelt down on one knee in front of Cat, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

Her heart skipped a beat and she gasped softly, "Oh my God," she whispered, "Oh God…"

"Catherine Rowena Ernshawl," he said, "Be my wife. I will love you, I will cherish you, and I will protect you…Just say that you'll marry me."

"Edgar, this is so fast," she said helplessly, "So sudden- what am I supposed to say?"

"Say yes," he urged gently, "Say that you'll marry me. I love you, Catherine. And I know you love me too. I can see it in your eyes right now. You love me. You're just afraid."

"I'm shocked!" she said, her voice cracking, "I don't know _what_ I'm feeling right now! I don't know what to think!"

"Then don't try and think about it- just say yes! Say it!"

Cat's mouth began moving up and down silently, fumbling for words she didn't even know to say, "I…I…" She hated crying, she always had. And she hated that she was about to do it. Her mind was moving so fast, she couldn't even pinpoint her thoughts. They were everywhere.

Marry? _Marry?_ Edgar? Where had it come from? How could this even be happening?

And why was she taking so long to say something? It was just a matter of yes or no, wasn't it? Either she wanted to, or she didn't, right?

Then why couldn't she yes? And why couldn't she say no?

The answer came to her instantly. She couldn't say no because of that smile he was giving her. And she couldn't say yes because the image of Heath's face had suddenly appeared in her mind. It made a hollow, empty feeling in her stomach.

Edgar continued to grin broadly at her. The look in his eyes was enough to break her heart; they were filled with so much hope.

_He does love me_, she thought to herself, _He does…_

All of a sudden, she felt her eyes brimming over with tears and she raised her hands up to catch them before they fell. She suddenly felt the strongest urge to cry long and hard.

Edgar was immediately beside her, brushing the tears away with his fingertips, then kissing them away with his lips. Cat closed her eyes and succumbed to the warmth of his arms, letting him kiss her face even when the tears had dried away. Then their lips met each other and molded together, slowly at first, then faster and faster until they were kissing each other deeply, urgently.

Cat didn't feel any better the more Edgar kissed her- she felt worse. Because over and over again, she kept thinking how strange it was that now, as she was kissing Edgar, she kept wishing that it was Heath who held this way, kissed her like this. It was the first time that she and Edgar had been this intimate with one another, and suddenly she had never missed Heath more. And it hurt. It hurt so badly…

That hurt was what made her continue to kiss Edgar, to let him kiss her. She was trying to make it, and all thoughts of Heath go away- the only way she knew how…

After a few moments, Edgar pulled away, breathing heavily. His eyes were glowing and he held her close to him, "Catherine…" was all he whispered, but Cat knew what he really meant by it- what he was asking her.

She hesitated for one brief moment, then gave him her reply inn a kiss. From then on, she let herself go, surrendering control of her confused, torrential emotions. As Edgar pushed her back on the bed and began undressing her, Cat shut her eyes lightly, trying to quiet the storm inside her mind and the voices in her head. They all came from the past, but were steadily trying to sneak their way into a present and future in which she knew they could never belong.

***********************************

A few hours later, Cat climbed out of bed, carefully detaching Edgar's arms from around her. Taking a sheet off the bed, she wrapped it around her naked body, then went over to one of her dressers. Quietly rummaging through the bottom of one of the underwear drawers, she pulled out a half used box of Camel cigarettes and a fluid lighter. She went over to the walk out balcony just outside the room, and shut the glass door behind her, settling down in a chair and lighting a cigarette. As she exhaled the smoke, she leaned back and looked out at the still, quiet street below. Still holding the cigarette between her fingers, she used her palm to rub at her forehead wearily, sighing, "God," she whispered, "What am I gonna do?"

Nothing, that was what. Nothing….because It was done now. She'd slept with Edgar. There was no going back on it.

She hadn't counted on how difficult it would be. The entire time, she'd kept her eyes shut. Something in her had been afraid that the moment she opened her eyes, she would see Heath standing there, watching her. But keeping her eyes shut hadn't made her stop thinking about him. With her eyes shut, her mind just created a mental image of what he would look like if he could have seen her then. She thought about what would happen the next time they saw one another. Would he be able to tell? Would it be written in her face, like some sort of neon sign? Cat certainly felt self-conscious about it. Her entire body felt different, as if it wasn't even her own. She had that horrible feeling that a person got when they knew they had done something wrong, but also knew that there was nothing they could do to change it. Things were going to be different now. Even if Heath never found out about it. He didn't have to. Cat would always know what she had done, and it would always be between them- like a tall stone wall. But Heath was Heath….and that meant that he would find out about it. Even if she never told him…he would know. Somehow, he would know.

And Cat didn't know what would happen to them then…

What was it that Heath had said that night they spent together? That she was his- that she belonged to him. He had made her say it. Was that still true now that she had been with Edgar?

Had it ever really been true? Had she even meant it? How could she have meant it and done what she had just done? Maybe it _had_ all been a lie. Something that had only been able to happen because they had been locked inside their own little world together for so long. Now, Cat was in a different world- and what she had had with Heath suddenly seemed so far out of her reach…

"Catherine?"

She turned her head sharply, then relaxed as she saw Edgar standing in the doorway of the balcony, dressed in his boxer shorts. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked concernedly.

Cat nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine." She lied. "I just… needed some air."

Coming over to sit beside her, Edgar gestured to the cigarette in her hands with a frown, "I didn't know you smoked."

Cat took another drag on the cigarette with a tight smile, "I don't." she said, stooping down and stubbing it out on the concrete, "I just do it for my health."

He gave a small smile, "Okay, fair enough…How do you feel?"

Cat knew what he meant and gave a short laugh, "Do you always ask that question afterward?"

"I'm serious." He replied, "I felt like you were somewhere else part of the time."

"That's stupid." She said quickly, "I was right there. You surprised me- in a good way."

He shrugged ruefully, "Pleased to be of service. You weren't so bad yourself." They laughed quietly and he faced her, putting one hand against her cheek, "I love you Catherine."

She looked away and nodded, "Yeah- you've said that a time or two tonight."

"I mean it. I love you- and I want to marry you. Please say yes."

Cat sighed, "Edgar…I just don't know. I never imagined myself getting married when I was growing up. I didn't want to be."

"I didn't want to be either," he said, "But then I met you- and now that's all I want to be."

"What difference does marriage make?" she asked impatiently, "It isn't something we have to do."

"No, but I want to. I want to be able to take care of you right, Catherine. I want to make it official to the whole world…I want you to be the mother of my children."

Cat exhaled sharply, "Wow…you don't waste any time do you?"

"I don't know how much more time I can waste with this. With your career getting bigger and bigger, the world's gonna open up for you. I don't want to look up one day and see you gone. I want to be with you wherever you are."

"Edgar, that's not going to happen. I could never just leave and forget you, you've given me everything." Somewhere in the back of her mind, those words sounded so familiar- like she'd said them before. To someone else…

"Then give me yourself." Edgar was urging, "Marry me. Be my wife." When she still hesitated, he asked, "What do I have to do to convince you?"

Cat stood up from the chair and went to lean against the balcony, looking down into the street blindly. She was quiet for a long time, thinking. Then, she called back, "You'll do anything?" she asked.

"Yes." Edgar said steadily, "Anything. Tell me what you want me to do."

Cat closed her eyes briefly and licked her lips, which had went dry. Yes or No. It was that simple. And yet…it wasn't. It just wasn't that simple. She needed to know something first. She had to see Him. To see if things had really changed now- if she could still have that world with Him- while still living in this one. And to do that- she had to go back. She _had_ to go back. "Home," she whispered, "I want to go home."


	28. Chapter 28: The Homecoming

_A/N: Hey guys, update time again! What I wrote for you this time I thought was just too long for one chapter, so I'm splitting it up into two chapters, but just posting both at once in one update, so you don't have to wait or anything. Thank you so much for reading and especially reviewing.--Jess_

**Chapter Twenty Eight: The Homecoming**

Cat looked out the window of Edgar's Mercedes, her eyes taking in the nature that she had almost forgotten. Her heart was in her throat, making it hard for her to swallow.

Home. After three long months, she was finally back home.

Her, Edgar and Isabella had arrived from the airport that morning and had been driving from there for the past two hours. She'd been anxious the entire flight, and was becoming even more so by the minute as they drove closer and closer to her home.

"How much further?" Isabella asked. She had wanted to come along to see the Linton's new vacation home that Edgar had stayed in when he had been there. Cat wished she hadn't have come, but had said nothing.

"Not much more." Edgar said breezily, the turned to her with a smile, "Seem familiar Catherine?"

She smiled at him briefly, then turned and gazed out the window wistfully. Everything had changed. The mark of Linton contracting company was deep and startling. The houses she had been accustomed to for so many years were gone. The small, crowded town that she had known with its little shops and schools was gone. Everything had been bulldozed away.

"Dad said they made a lot of changes to the place," Edgar said, also looking out of the windows, "But I didn't think they made this many. He said it's all to preserve the notion of complete wilderness. He wants the tourists to feel like they're all alone out here, with nothing but Mother Nature to keep company."

"Sounds like mosquito galore!" Isabella said drily, "God, I hope there's a place to buy some bug repellent!"

"The nearest town's forty minutes away now." Cat said. "But Ellie usually keeps it on hand at home."

"Who's Ellie?" Isabelle asked.

"She's-" Cat broke off, suddenly unsure of how to answer, "She's our…she takes care of us. Ever since my mom died."

"Oh." Isabella said, then was quiet.

Cat paused for a moment, then said, "Can- can we stop at my house first before we go to The Grange?" the Grange was what the vacation community had been called by the Linton contracting company. "It's just that it's been a while and I-"

"Absolutely." Edgar said, "It's closer than The Grange anyway." He paused then said softly, "Anything you want, remember?"

Cat nodded, "Yeah." She said hastily, "Okay."

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she repeated, "Just a little…nervous, I guess."

"Relax. They're gonna love your new look, I promise."

_That isn't what I meant, Edgar_, she thought to herself, but was quiet. It wouldn't have done any good for him to know what she was thinking about anyway.

_God, what am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to do?_

"Are we close yet?" Isabella asked, "I'm getting hungry."

"It's just over this next corner," Cat said softly. She could walk this path blind and still end up home.

"You live in the woods?" Isabella asked in disbelief.

"It's not in the woods." Cat answered, "It's on the edge of a field. The woods are behind The Heights."

"The what?"

"Her dad's auto shop." Edgar said.

"But I thought you said your dad was dead."

Cat shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, "He _is_ dead." She murmured.

"Then who-"

"Isabella," Edgar cut in sharply, "That's enough alright?"

The Mercedes turned the upcoming corner, and Cat sucked in a breath.

There it was. The house. The Heights. Her home.

They drove up the gravel driveway, where Cat could see Henry's pick up truck parked in the driveway. As Edgar turned off the ignition, she braced herself tight and waited for him to come around and open her car door.

_I've got to get it together,_ she thought frantically, _I have to be calm…_

The three of them walked up the porch steps and Cat paused a final time before reaching up and knocking on the door.

From inside, she could hear the sound of footsteps walking up the hall, then the unlocking of the dead bolt. The door swung open and Ellie's face appeared in the screen window.

At the sight of her, something inside of Cat yanked hard, and all of a sudden she had never felt more glad to see her.

"Cat!" Ellie cried, opening the screen door, "Honey, welcome home!" She opened her arms wide.

Cat fell into them gratefully, hugging her tight, "Oh Ellie!" she murmured quietly, "I've missed you so much!" Her eyes welled and as she pulled back, she saw a sheen reflected in Ellie's as well.

Ellie hastily wiped the moisture away, laughing shakily, "Oh, now look what you made me do!" she said ruefully, then looked back at Edgar and Isabella, "Please, both of you, come in.

"I'm sorry to not greet you proper but," she said, closing the door behind them, "This girl here is the closest thing to a daughter I ever had and-"

"No need to explain at all." Edgar swiftly interrupted, "We more than understand."

Ellie was looking Cat up and down in awe, "Oh and just look at her! _Look_ at her! So beautiful! I never knew she would turn out so _beautiful_! Oh God!"

"Cat? Is that you?" Cat turned and saw a thick, bulky figure waddling down the hallway. As it came closer, she saw that it was a very pregnant Francie, a bright smile on her face that was still pretty, but more tired than she remembered it to be.

"Hey Francie," Cat said warmly, coming forward. She started to hug her, then paused at the enormous bulge of her belly. They all laughed, "Looks like you've grown since I've been gone!"

Francie sighed with a smile and rubbed her hand over her stomach, "More than I thought possible! But just look at you! Lord honey, what'd they do to you in New York? You look like you walked straight out of a magazine!" She leaned forward and kissed Cat on the cheek, rubbing her face lovingly. "Such a beautiful little lady!" she said, then sniffed at the air, "Mmmm! Is that Chanel No. 5?"

"Yeah," Cat said sheepishly. Ellie and Francie exchanged surprised looks,

"Perfume? You, Cat?" Ellie said, she looked her up and down again, "What happened to you, honey?"

"Nothing, I just changed a little bit, that's all. God, I have so much to tell you guys!" she smiled hastily, then gestured to Isabella, "I don't think you all know Edgar's sister; this is Isabella Linton. Isabella, this is Francie, Henry's wife, and this is Ellie Dean. She's been with our family for a few years now."

Isabella stepped forward and shook their hands, "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Oh just look at her Francie," Ellie said, "She's just as pretty! It's wonderful to meet you Miss Linton- you call me Ellie, alright? And it's good to see you too Edgar!"

Edgar smiled at her warmly, "Hello again Ellie, Francie."

"You look good, Edgar." Francie said.

"So do you!" he said, then pinked, "I mean, well, you-"

The all laughed and Francie swatted his arms playfully, "There's no need to tell a pregnant woman she looks good hon- she knows she doesn't!"

"C'mon, you all must be tired," Ellie said, "I'm just about done with dinner, why don't you come sit down. And Francie, you know what Dr. Beauford said about you walking around!"

Francie waved her hand dismissively as they all started walking down the hall toward the dining room, "Oh hush, Ellie! I've been sitting around for weeks, and I'm sick of it. Besides, I couldn't wait to see this little lady!" she rubbed Cat's arms warmly.

"It smells great in here," Isabella said, "What are you cooking?"

"Fried chicken, green beans and corn bread." Ellie answered, "It may not be what you're used to-"

"It sounds delicious," Edgar asserted, "We haven't eaten since we left New York this morning!"

"No one can resist Ellie's cooking," Cat said, "It's been such a long time I don't know how I've lived without it!"

"Well it looks to me like you haven't been living with _any _food!" Francie said, examining her body critically, "Don't they feed you up there Cat? You got even more skinny than you already were!"

"Well I have been on a small diet." Cat admitted. Otis had started her on it around three weeks ago, saying that she needed to drop down to at least a size 3 from her own size 5. He said that most high fashion designers didn't make their clothes any bigger than a 3, and that she had to be able to fit anything she was given if she wanted to succeed in high fashion.

"Diet?!" Ellie exclaimed, then snorted, "Well you can forget about that from now on, honey. No one's dieting anything in this house!"

As Francie, Isabella and Edgar went into the dining room to sit down, Cat followed Ellie into the kitchen. Lowering her voice, she asked, "Ellie…where is he?"

"Who?" Ellie asked.

Cat folded her arms across her chest, "Ellie." She said simply.

Ellie glanced back at her, "He's where he always is, Cat. I don't have to tell you that."

"And where's-"

"Well hello there Cat!"

Cat turned around and saw Henry standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He looked the same as he always had, excepting for the start of a beard on his chin. When she stared at him, he laughed shortly, "What, you're not going to hug your big brother? It's been three months!"

Cat hesitantly went forward and loosely wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, giving him a frigid embrace.

When she pulled away, Henry caught hold of her hands and lifted her arms up, stepping back to look at her. He raised his eyebrows and whistled, "Well you've changed since last I saw you, haven't you little sister? You're finally deciding to look like a girl."

Cat snorted and pulled her hands away, "Oh cut it out!" she muttered.

"And losing weight I may add!" he exclaimed, "Good thing too: you were getting a little chubby there, Cat!"

"Henry!" Ellie said sharply and he began laughing,

"I know, I know. I'm just playing with you, Cat. You look great- really you do. It's been weird not having you around. But it looks like Edgar took care of you just fine."

"Why wouldn't he?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Good point." He stared at her for another moment, then smiled and shook his head, "Why the hell am I even wasting my time? You don't give a damn about seeing me, do you? We know who you want to see, don't we Ellie?"

Ellie didn't answer and Cat watched Henry go over to the back door and open it, sticking his head outside, "Heath!" he shouted roughly, "C'mon in here. I got a surprise for you!"

Cat stared at him, "You didn't tell him I was coming home?" she asked.

Henry looked back at her in mock innocence, "What, and spoil the surprise?"

"Who's Heath?" Isabella asked, but before anyone could answer her, the door opened and Cat looked up.

Heath stood in the doorway. Their eyes instantly met and her breath caught in her throat.

His hair had grown even longer. The shadows beneath his eyes had deepened. The white t-shirt he wore was stained with car oil, dirt and dark brown stains that resembled dried blood. His jeans were ripped in several places, also smeared with the same stains. But it wasn't any of that that bothered Cat. It was how dirty he looked to her. She wasn't sure if it was something that had always been, or if it was even worse now, but she couldn't remember Heath looking so dirty to her. His face was dirty, his hands were dirty, his arms were dirty. Even though his hair was jet black, looking at it, Cat could tell that it was laden with grease and oily residue.

He was filthy.

For a long time, they looked at each other. Heath's eyes roved up and down over Cat's body, but his expression stayed blank. She could tell he was taking in her appearance, but couldn't tell what he thought of it.

Henry leaned against the wall, an amused smirk on his face, "Aren't you two going to say something? You could shake hands at least!"

Cat saw Heath's gaze flicker to Henry for a quick instant, but it was enough for her to be able to read the hatred in his eyes; pure unadulterated hatred.

She looked back at him, and took a tentative step forward. She wished that Ellie and Henry weren't there, that she could be alone with Heath so that she could explain something, anything to him.

She wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come; not even words for a simple greeting.

"Who's this?"

Everyone turned around at the sound of Isabella's voice. She, Edgar and Francie were standing in the entrance to the kitchen from the dining room, all looking at Heath. Edgar looked at Heath warily, taking in his appearance with a thinly veiled kind of disgust. Isabella seemed intrigued; a little repulsed herself, but intrigued nonetheless.

Cat cleared her throat, "Isabella, this is Heath. My dad took him in a few years ago, and he lives with us now. Heath, this is Isabella Linton; Edgar's sister."

Isabella stepped forward, a light smile on her face as she reached out her hand, "Nice to meet you Heath." She seemed to be the only person in the room besides Henry, who wasn't completely uncomfortable.

Heath glanced at her strangely, like he was confused as to why she was speaking to him. Then he looked back at Cat, who couldn't look at him. He stared at her for long moment, then turned around and walked back outside without another word.

Henry began laughing and Cat glared at him sharply. Her palm itched and she felt the need to slap that silly grin off of his face.

"Never mind him Isabella," Henry said, "He's no one you would want to know. He's no part of this family."

Cat's eyes widened in fury, but before she could say something, Ellie said abruptly, "Well what are we all standing around for? Let's eat!"

As the others filed into the dining room, Cat and Edgar remained standing where they were. For a long moment both were quiet, then Edgar murmured, "Are you alright?"

She nodded , "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Tell me the truth." He said.

She scoffed frustratingly, "I said I'm fine! That means I am, now can we just drop it?" Walking past him, Cat went inside the dining room, trying to erase the memory of the look in Heath's eyes as he looked at her from her memory.


	29. Chapter 29: Making a Choice

**Chapter Twenty Nine: Making a Choice**

"Are you sure you don't want to stay at The Grange?" Edgar asked Cat quietly. It was later that night, and Isabella and Edgar were getting ready to leave. Cat and Edgar stood on the porch outside the house while Isabella was still inside the house with Ellie and Francie.

Cat shook her head, "I'd really rather not, Edgar. No one else knows about us, and for now I really just want to keep it a secret. Besides, I think Ellie really wants me to stay here- she's missed me."

He nodded, "Yeah I can tell…Alright, then. I guess I can live without you for a few hours a night…though those are the times it's gonna be hardest." He grinned wickedly, "Any chance I can stay over for a slumber party?"

Cat gasped and slapped his arm, "No! Are you crazy?!"

Edgar laughed, "Oh, I didn't know you were so prude! You could have fooled me that night at home," he leaned forward and stole a kiss from her. Cat hastily pushed him away, looking anxiously at the screen door,

"Edgar stop, do you want someone to see?"

"Who cares, Catherine? You're gonna marry me anyway…" he murmured in her ear.

"I haven't given you an answer on that, Edgar." She said, pushing him back to arms length, "I still need time."

"So you've been telling me," he said wryly, "But I don't know how much more of this time I can take."

"Please," she said, "Just let me think about it."

He sighed, "Alright, Alright. I'll give you your time, In the meanwhile I guess I better get home and go to bed- alone unfortunately."

She smiled lightly and shrugged, "Sorry."

Edgar smiled back, "Me too." He called through the screen door, "C'mon Isabella! Let's go!" He reached out and smoothed back a piece of Cat's hair, then stroked her cheek, "Hey, I love you."

Cat nodded, "I know. See you later."

"I'll come by tomorrow, how's that sound?"

"That sounds fine."

Edgar kissed her tenderly and Cat kissed him back, then gently pushed him away, "See you."

Isabella came out on the porch with Ellie, "Thanks for showing me those recipes Mrs. Deene. I'll use them just as soon as I get the chance."

Edgar snickered, "You mean as soon as you learn how to cook!"

They all laughed, except for Isabella who scowled at him, "I'll thank you to mind your own business little brother. I happen to be a great cook!"

Cat smiled and withheld a laugh; Isabella was even worse of a cook than she was.

"Come back anytime," Ellie said earnestly, "You both are more than welcome."

"Thank you so much ma'am," Edgar began, but she cut him off,

"Uh, uh, uh: it's Ellie. For both of you."

"Ellie, thank you for the dinner. It was better than anything Consuela ever made for us at home."

"Yeah, well," she said pleasingly, "Go on home. It's getting dark."

Cat and Ellie stood on the porch together, watching Edgar's Mercedes light fade farther and farther away until they were completely gone. Ellie waited another moment, then said,

"I bet I can guess what you're thinking right now."

Cat stayed staring straight ahead, "Where is he?"

"He should be out back in The Heights, but I never really know anymore. You wanna take him his dinner? Your brother's already asleep."

"What's the matter with him?" Cat asked, "Why didn't he even speak to me?"

Ellie sighed and opened her mouth as though she were about to speak, then shut it and shook her head, "Why don't you just talk to him yourself, and see if he'll tell you."

"Have things still been bad for him since I left?"

Ellie was quiet for moment, then turned to go back inside, "They've been worse." She said simply, "Come and get his plate before the food gets cold."

A few minutes later, Cat was walking out back to The Heights, a plate of the food balanced in one hand, while she carried a plastic bag in the other. Inside it was body soap, shampoo and an unopened razor she'd taken from one of the bathrooms upstairs.

Opening the door to the garage, she flicked on the light, but upon looking around the room, saw no one there. She looked in the office, and went upstairs to where Heath's old room had been, but he wasn't there either.

Sighing heavily, Cat looked out the window at the wide field and forest, then back down at the high heel stilettos on her feet. Squaring her jaw she stepped outside of them and peeled the panty hose off of her legs. Taking back up the food and bag, she left the shoes and hose in the garage and went back outside, this time going back behind the garage and starting across the field, being careful to avoid sharp rocks or rough terrain.

She went straight to the willow tree, but saw no one sitting in the branches. So she ventured into the forest, taking the secret path to her and Heath's cave.

When she reached the spot, she was about to lower herself down into the hole, but paused when she heard a low meow from the direction of the clearing where the secret lake was.

"Chrissy?" Cat called out, "Is that you?"

She went through the branches and looked around, then stopped short.

Heath was sitting on the edge of the lake with his back to her, his legs crossed. Chrissy sat in his lap, purring contentedly as his fingers gently stroked her fur.

"Heath." Cat said quietly. He made no immediate answer, or made no move to look at her, only continuing to stroke the fur. She sighed frustratingly, "Aren't you going to say anything to me? What's wrong with you?"

His voice was quiet, and she had to lean forward to hear him, "I checked the mailbox every day for a letter from you. Even when Ellie told me you hadn't written, I would check it anyway- just to see if you had written me like you said you would."

Cat shut her eyes with a sigh, "Heath-"

"One week went by, then another, and another. And you didn't write. Not once. So I started waiting for you to come home instead. I figured, that if you weren't writing, it was because you were coming home soon. I knew," he paused for a moment then continued, "I _knew_, that you had promised it wouldn't be very long- a few weeks before you came home. So I started watching the road. I would look down that gravel road every chance I got- just waiting to see you drive up in his car. But you didn't come. And more weeks went by."

"Heath, just let me explain-"

"Chrissy got pregnant while you were away." He said stonily, "She had it real bad."

Cat was stunned, "Kittens?" she murmured.

He nodded, "Yes. Four of them. The dad was this orange tabby cat that had wandered around here for weeks. She gave birth out here by the lake. They were beautiful kittens. All with crystal blue eyes. I waited for you to come before I named them- I thought you would want to."

"I do want to name them," Cat said, "Where are they, let's just do it now."

Heath smiled tightly and shook his head, "We can't. After another week went by, and you didn't come home, I put all the kittens in a bag and dropped it in the lake."

She stared at him, aghast, "You _what_?!"

"I drowned them." He replied calmly, still stroking Chrissy's fur, "Chrissy's your cat, and they were your kittens, but you weren't here to see them. So I figured," he shrugged, "What was the point of keeping them alive to see you, if you were never coming home?"

"Heath, what's wrong with you? Why did you do a thing like that?!"

"Why didn't you come back?" He asked evenly, "Why didn't you write? If you had done either, I may have let them live."

Cat sighed and sat down next to him, setting the food and bag aside, "Why do you center everything round me, Heath? Why do you always do that?"

Heath didn't answer, only continuing to stroke Chrissy's fur.

"Do you have any idea what my life has been like for the past three months?" she asked impatiently, "Do you know how much has changed? I'm a model now Heath. A real model. I've been in photo shoots, and fashion shows and on magazine covers. I'm making money- decent money. Why can't you be happy for me? Why don't you support me? Ellie and Francie do. So do Isabella and Edgar-"

Heath gave a short, hard snort, his face hardening at the mention of the name. Cat's face changed, becoming hard and unforgiving, "What? What is it?"

"Cut the shit, Cat," he muttered, "Do you think I'm stupid or something? Do you think I'm blind?"

She sighed exasperatedly and folded her fingers across the top of her head, staring down at the ground, "He is _helping_ me, Heath" she said, "He's the only reason I was able to get everything I have today. And if you were my real friend, you would be happy for me."

"I don't want to be your friend." He said, his voice like stone.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You can't give me what I want from you if we're just friends."

"What _do_ you want?" she asked. "Heath? What do you want from me?"

Heath raised his head up and looked at her square in the eye, "Everything." He replied. "I want everything from you. Everything you are. Everything you ever were. Everything you ever will be. I want that….I want all of you."

Cat sighed again, shutting her eyes as she placed her face in her hands, "Oh my God…" she moaned lowly, "Heath, you have to stop _talking_ like that!"

"Why?" he asked. There was such a tone of simple, wounded, incomprehension in his voice. "Why should I? It's what I feel."

Cat snatched her hands from her face as she burst out without thinking, "Well it doesn't really matter what you-" she stopped short to catch herself, but it was too late. She saw the look in his eyes and looked away from it in the opposite direction, staying silent for a long moment. "Heath," she said at last, "There are just…there are things you've _got_ to understand- about the way things are now."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do!" she snapped out angrily, "You have to stop acting like we're still kids running around this place, sneaking around and getting in trouble."

"_Why_?" he asked swiftly, and she was surprised at the emotion in the one word alone, "Why do I have to do that? Why, when all I want is for it to be like that again?"

"Heath, are you crazy?" she asked, "How could say a stupid thing like that?

"It wasn't stupid Cat, it was who we were. It's who we _are_! Why can't you understand that?!"

"And why can't you understand what I'm trying to do?" she retorted, "I'm trying to help us, why can't you see that? How else do you think you're going to get out of this hell hole? Who else is going to do it? I have a chance to fix everything. Don't you understand that yet? Huh? Heath," she reached out and tugged on his arm, "Heath, _look_ at me!"

He turned his head and stared down at her stonily. Cat touched his grizzled cheek, her expression softening, "We can leave here- together. We can see the world. You can come to New York with me, Edgar and Isabella. I can show you everything. You can see me in a runway show. We can be happy there. C'mon Heath, wouldn't that be fun?"

Heath jerked his face out of her hand and looked back down at Chrissy, "No." he said shortly. "It wouldn't."

"Why not?!"

"Because I'd rather stay here for the rest of my life, and have things like they are now, than move somewhere else and have to share you with him."

Cat stared at him, then shook her head in disgust, "You know what? Forget it." She snapped, "I don't know why I even try with you!" She got to her feet, picking up the food and bag. She tossed them into Heath's lap, upsetting Chrissy, who meowed loudly, sprinting away into a nearby tree.

Turning around on her heel, she began to walk back into the woods. From behind her, she heard Heath's voice call out, "Cat! Cat, where are you going?"

"Back to the Grange!" she spat back, "I sure as hell can get more appreciation there than I can here!"

"No, wait!" she could heard his hurried footsteps after her, and within moments felt his hand close around hers and pull her back, "Cat, don't go. I'm sorry."

She pulled her hand out of his grip roughly, "Well, you're not acting like it! God, I finally get to do the one thing I've always dreamed of doing, and you punish me for it!"

"You left me here!" he shouted at her, and she winced, "You left me here alone for three months- and you never wrote me. Not once, Cat! Do you have any idea what that was like for me? Do you know what went through my mind all those days, all those nights? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to try and convince myself that you _would_ come back- when I had your brother telling me every day that I would never see you again? That you'd left me for Edgar Linton? Do you know how hard I fought that thought?!" he reached out and grabbed hold of her arms, giving her a shake, "_Do you_?!"

"I said I was sorry! What else do you want me to do? What do you want from me?!" They were both shouting now, as he answered,

"You want to know what I want?"

"Yes! What do you want?!"

"I want you to stay here!" he said, his grip only tightening on her, "To just stay here with me! I want you to never even look at Edgar Linton again. I want you to tell me that you love me."

Cat had started shaking her head midway into his speaking, "Heath, no. Just don't…" she was saying, but he only kept going,

" I want to hold you at night and still be able to hold you in the morning. I want life to be nothing more than you and me, every day for the rest of my life. _That's_ what I want."

"Don't…don't…_don't_! Just don't even talk that way! Listen to me. I _have_ to do something with my life Heath! Don't you get it yet?! I can't stay here with you forever!"

"Why _not_?!" he shouted. "Why are you running away from me?! Why are your running away from _us_?!" His eyes searched hers intently, "It's Linton, isn't it? Why don't you just say it? Go on _say_ it! This is what you're trying to do-"

Cat had frozen at the mention of Edgar's name, then twisted her face into a cruel sardonic grin to hide her feelings of guilt and fear, "So that's it!" she said bitingly, "You're jealous of him!" she began to laugh.

Suddenly she was cut off as Heath reached out and clamped down on her wrist, yanking her to his chest. Cat uttered a small whimper and looked up into Heath's eyes. They were glittering strangely. His voice was quiet as he brought his face close to hers,

"Don't laugh at me. Don't you ever laugh at me, Cat. Now you listen to me: you're mine, do you understand? You belong to _me_."

Cat's jaw dropped open in shock, "Belong?" she sputtered incredulously, "I _belong_ to you?!"

"Yes." He said, "You gave yourself to me that night in my room. You said you were mine. You said it with your own lips."

"We were having sex, Heath." She said through gritted teeth, "You asked me to. It didn't mean anything, and it doesn't make you own me. People don't belong to each other. You can't own me! No one owns me, no one!"

Heath shook his head stubbornly "I own you. And you own me. We belong to each other. When are you going to just accept that? What's the matter with you?!"

She shook her head defiantly at him, "You're so pathetic, Heath, do you know that? You're so damn pathet-"

"You're fucking him, aren't you?" he cut in, his voice as sharp and brutal as a knife. Cat felt her heart literally leap into her throat. Damn. Damn, damn, _damn_. He had been able to tell. Just like she knew he would. God, _why_ did he have to be able to tell?

"_What_ did you say?!" she breathed, trying to pretend shock, but he only went on speaking as if she hadn't said a word, all his words running together swiftly,

"Don't you even try and deny it, that's what this is. You fucked him, I can see it in your eyes." he looked her up and down, snorting disgustingly, "God, you make me _sick_- you backstabbing, whoring little-"

Her face flushed red. All of a sudden, she felt dirty. Low and dirty. The disgust in his eyes and voice was almost too much for her to bear. It made her feel so…ashamed of herself. Frustrated and angry, Cat lashed her hand out and slapped him hard across the face with a resounding crack. Almost immediately after she hit him however, Heath closed his hand around the back of her head and kissed her just as roughly as she had hit him, not allowing her to pull away.

Cat struggled and squirmed as best she could, attempting to breathe against the suffocating pressure of Heath's lips. When he at last jerked away from her, she uttered a low cry, and pushed him away with her palms,

"Stop it!" she shrieked, "Stop doing that! You scare me when you're like this, Heath!"

"I don't want to scare you, I want to love you!" he yelled angrily.

"Well you don't have to own me to do it!" she screamed back. They both were flushed beet red in the face and panting heavily. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and spoke again, slowly, "How could you even speak to me like that…" her voice was trembling with unshed tears. "How _could_ you, Heath?"

"And how could _you_ do it, Cat?" he asked her. His voice was low and tight. He was angry, but not furious. He was hurt. That was what it was. And the fact that he was hurt and not furious made her feel all the more guilty. "How _could_ you do it?" he shook his head, "When we-" his voice broke off and he turned away from her, combing his fingers deep into his hair as he exhaled raggedly.

Her eyes were burning and her stomach twisting knots, not only because Heath's words had stung her, but that the truth was that she _had_ slept with Edgar- and she had never regretted it more than at that moment, when she saw what it had done to their relationship. Something about it was gone- and they would never get it back. She felt sick. She was too much of a coward to tell Heath the truth. The only thing she could think to do now, was deny it. "I am _not_…Edgar's whore." She said, her voice shaking, "You don't have the right to even hint that to me Heath."

"Then what are you?" he asked, and she winced. "Look at you, Cat. You're not you." He scoffed softly, "You don't even sound the same anymore!"

"Well so what? I thought you would like me this way. Everyone else does. Don't you think I look beautiful?"

"You looked beautiful to me before!" he said cuttingly, "Now you look like someone I don't even know!"

"I changed myself for the better, Heath!" Cat retorted, "I was willing to change to make something of myself. Maybe if you had been willing to do that about the contest, you wouldn't be still stuck in this hell hole, smelling like a pig!"

She saw his face flinch once, and instantly regretted her words. Shutting her eyes Cat ran a hand through her hair wearily, "I'm sorry." She said quietly, "I shouldn't have said that."

"But that's what it is…isn't it, Cat?" he asked her, "When all is said and done...that's exactly what this is all about…" his voice dropped to a low murmur, "You don't think I'm good enough for you anymore."

"Heath, _no._" she said swiftly, "You know I didn't mean that. I was just upset. And my life really was busy for those three months. I wish I could tell you how busy I was. But I _did_ miss you. You know I did." She stepped closer to him, reaching up and touching his face gingerly, "C'mon, let's not fight anymore, ok? I'm sorry."

Heath looked at her solemnly. He abruptly grabbed hold of her wrists, drawing them away from his face, but continuing to hold them firmly. His eyes were shadowed and like granite, "I wish I could forget about you." He murmured, "I wish I could hate you as much as I love you. You don't have any idea how bad I wish that."

She frowned lightly, "Why would you want to do that?"

"If I hated you that much, then you would never be able to hurt me again." He replied. "But I can't- so you always will."

"You've hurt me too." She said, her expression sobering, "Bad."

But Heath only gave a small, tight smile. He let get of her wrists and dropped his hands to his side, "But your wounds always heal…I just bleed. And bleed."

Cat stared at him for a long moment, "I'm never going to leave you." She said softly, and she meant it, "Not really. Not for forever."

"Then promise. I want to hear you promise me that."

"Well will _you_ promise never to leave _me_?" she asked.

He frowned a little, "What?"

"If I promise to never leave you- will you promise that you won't ever leave me?"

"Cat," he said, shaking his head, "Nothing would ever make me leave you. Nothing ever could."

"Really?" she asked, "You'd never just up and decide that you got tired of being here and leave?"

He shook his head, "Not if you weren't coming with me, I wouldn't."

"Okay then- let's promise right here and now." Cat took up Heath's hands in hers, winding the fingers in between hers. She tilted her head back to look up into his face, smiling as she said, "I Catherine Ernshawl, promise now, on June 14, 1994, that nothing will ever keep me away from Heath Ernshawl. I promise that whenever I'm away from him- he'll be in my thoughts. Nothing- not distance, work, feelings- or even death, will keep me away from coming back to him. This I swear on my life."

Heath was looking down at her skeptically, "You're mocking me, aren't you?"

Cat's smile gently faded from her face, melting it into a more somber expression. Reaching up she smoothed back some of his hair and let her fingers drift down the side of his face until she was holding his cheek, "No," she murmured softly, "No, I'm not. I'm serious. I meant every word…and now I want you to say it too."

Heath took her face in his hands, tilting it up as he looked down into her eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing, but Cat didn't notice. The look in his eyes was so intensely overwhelming to her. When Heath looked at her like that it was like everything else ceased to exist, and all she was able to think about was how much she loved those eyes- how there would never be anyone who looked at her like that- no one who would ever be able to see through her the way that Heath did.

"I Heath Ernshawl," he said quietly, the timbre in his deep voice vibrating, "Promise now, on June 14, 1994 that nothing will ever keep me away from Catherine Ernshawl. I promise that whenever I'm away from her….she'll consume my thoughts…and that I will do everything I can to come to her, or bring her back to me." Heath brought his lips down to the side of her face, murmuring against her skin, "Nothing, not distance," here he brushed his lips against her cheek in a kiss, "Work," he kissed her forehead, "Feelings," he kissed her by her temple, "Or even death," he kissed her on her other cheek, "Will keep me from her. This I swear, with my very life….which I give to her." He brought his face close to hers, so that their foreheads were touching. Cat brought her hands us and braced them against the sides of his face, closing her eyes with a shudder and remaining still. They stood in silence like that for a long time.

Then she drew back, smiling warmly "Thank you…Now, c'mon. I brought you some food. And I want you to eat all of it too! You're getting too skinny, Heath!"

"Look who's talking!" he mused, reaching out and pinching the side of her waist, knowing that it was one of her most sensitive spots. Heath smiled as she squealed and sat down beside her, crossing his legs to accommodate the plate of food. He took off the cover and picked up the chicken breast, biting into it. After a moment, he nodded appreciatively, "It's good…"

Cat shrugged, "It _was_ warm when I got here, but because you wanted to start a fight, now it's all cold!"

He shook his head, "I don't care," he replied in between bites. Cat noticed how avariciously he devoured the foot, as if he were afraid someone was going to snatch it back from him. A light frown creased her brow, and she asked,

"How much do you get to eat, Heath?"

Heath paused and stared at her for a moment, then answered, "I'm alright."

"What does _that_ mean?" she said, her face tense and brittle.

"It means that I'm okay." He said firmly, "Why does it matter?"

She stared at him, a hard look tightening her jaw, "He doesn't let you have very much food, does he?"

"Cat, I don't want to talk about it right now, alright?"

"Does he still hit you? Beat you up? Does he?" her voice rose impatiently.

Heath was quiet for a long time, before murmuring, "Yeah."

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Cat scooted over beside Heath and laid her head against his shoulder. He allowed her to keep it there, but shook his head,

"I don't-" he whispered, "I don't want you to feel sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you." She lied, "I just don't like to think of him mistreating you like this."

"Then don't." he said simply, "Don't think about it. One day, it won't be this way. One day I'm going to make him pay for this- all of it."

Cat sighed, "Don't talk like that, Heath. It won't do any-"

"Do you think I'm joking?" he asked her strangely, turning to look her in the eyes- and she saw that he wasn't. Not at all. There was a different look in them- something she'd never seen before she left home- or something that she'd just never noticed. "I _said_ I'm going to make him pay- and I am. Everything he's ever done to me- every beating, every word, every time he ever kept me from you. I'll make him suffer for everything he's ever-"

"Shhh," she shushed him, a frown creasing her forehead, "I mean it, Heath. Don't talk like that- I don't like it."

"Why not? Do you like what he's done to me? What he did to us?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then don't speak to me about you 'not liking' the way I talk about it. I'm going to talk about it- I'm going to do it. One day. Do you know sometimes I think about it; all the ways I could have my revenge on him? It almost makes all the shit he puts me through worth it-" a strange glint appeared in his eyes, "Sometimes…I even smile when he's hitting me- because I can imagine what I'm going to do to him for that hit. Every minute he ever kept me away from you, I remember. I remember…so that I know how many minutes I'm going to-"

"Stop it!" she broke in abruptly, her voice rising a little. She stared at him, feeling an uneasy chill crawl up her spine, "I said, that I don't want you to talk like that, Heath. Just stop it, you hear me?" Her hand came up and touched his cheek gently, her expression softening, "Don't let yourself become like him." she murmured. Heath said nothing, turning his head away to look out at the river,

She looked over at the plate of food, "You finished already?" she asked.

He nodded, "'I'm not used to so much- I get full quick…Thanks though."

She smiled, "We're not done yet."

"What do you mean?"

Cat reached out and picked up the bag of hygiene articles that Ellie had given her. She used her other hand to take Heath's hand and stood up, pulling him over to the bank of the river. "C'mon," she said, "Take your clothes off. I'm going to give you a bath."

A small, amused smile turned up Heath's lips, "_You're _going to give _me _a bath?"

"That's right." She said, grinning back at him, "A bath _and_ a shave!" She reached out and ran a fingernail across his roughened cheek. "I go away for a few months, and I come back to _this_! I want my old Heath back!"

He continue to smile, but shook his head,"You don't have to do that Cat, I can do it myself."

"Oh no you don't! Don't you try and change my mind! Come on you," she began tugging on his shirt impatiently, trying to pull it up herself, "Let's go!"

Heath tried to take hold of her hands, "Cat, please, just leave it alone…" But she shook his hands off of her, yanking his shirt up past his abdomen and to his chest. She paused there, however, the mischievous smile fading from her lips.

"Oh my God…" she murmured. There were bruises scattered all across Heath's chest. They formed a grotesque array of colors; purple, blue and yellow. She could tell that though some of them were old, others were new.

Cat said nothing for a long moment, raising her eyes to look at Heath. There was a sad, empty smile on his lips.

"I told you," he murmured, "You don't need to."

"Heath…" she shook her head, "I'm…I'm sorr-"

"Don't." he interrupted gently. "Don't be. Come on, let's just do it." He raised the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. Cat tried not to wince as she saw the rest of his exposed torso, and the damage done to it. Instead, she knelt down on the bank of the river and sat down on the edge of it, letting her feet and calves lower down into the water as she began taking the things out of the bag she'd taken from the house. Heath stripped down to his underwear and climbed into the river. Cat gestured to him, saying, "Here, sit there." And he sat down in the place between her legs so that they were on either side of him, the water coming just above his waist. Cat handed him a bar of soap,

"Start washing yourself up. I'll do your hair." She took up the jet black braid on his neck and began unraveling it.

"You're going to get your clothes wet," he warned her amusingly, to which she shrugged,

"It doesn't matter. This is Isabella's skirt anyway." They both laughed at that. Cat began wetting Heath's hair rinsing the water through it.

"How do you like her?" he asked. Cat shrugged again, answering,

"She's alright, I guess. She loves going out to parties and clubs, and she's always trying to drag me with her. Sometimes that gets old. And then she's forever obsessed with her little art studio."

"Art studio? Is she an artist?" Cat laughed,

"Oh God, no! She just rents it out to artists that want to exhibit their work. She acts like it's the biggest deal in the world every time she gets a new one to showcase." She gave a small laugh, "She'd probably eat you up with a spoon if she saw your work!"

Heath gave a snort as he smoothed the soap over his arms and torso "That'll be the day!"

"Mmm, I wouldn't be so hard on her, Heath. Isabella's pretty well connected. All of the Lintons are. She could help you."

"I don't want her help. Or any Linton's help for that matter." Cat saw that the conversation was taking an awkward, uncomfortable turn, and tried to change the subject.

"I've been invited to go to Paris. Sometime in the fall. For a runway show." She helped Heath rinse off his body, running the towel in her hands over his back and shoulders.

"Are you going?" he asked her quietly. She hesitated, biting her bottom lip a little,

"I don't know. It's more money for sure- and more exposure. I'd have a whole new league of clientele. The agency says there's no way I could _not _go and not be totally insane."

"You sound like you've already made your mind." He finished rinsing off his body and smoothed back his wet hair from his face, "Have you?"

Cat sighed, shaking her head, "No. I haven't."

"Why not?"

"Because…it wouldn't just mean me _going_ to Paris… I'd have to move there."

Heath turned around then, his gaze meeting with hers. There was a new look in his eyes as he searched hers. "For how long?" he asked.

"Indefinintely." She whispered. Heath clenched his jaw, looking down into the water. For a long time, neither of them said anything.

"So," he said at last, his own voice barely above a whisper, "You'd be going away…and never coming back. Really never coming back this time."

"I haven't given them an answer yet." She said, "I still have to decide."

"And have you?" he asked her evenly, "Do you want to go?"

"I-I don't know. I can't decide. I don't know what I want."

"It's a yes or no answer, Cat." Heath's voice was flat and cold. "I think you do know what you want to do- you just don't want me to know."

She looked up at him defensively, "What are you saying? That I'm keeping something from you? Why would I do that? I'm being as honest as I can about this."

"No, no you're not." He said, shaking his head, "If you really didn't want to go then you would have already told them no. You just wanted to hear me tell you that_ I_ think you should go."

"Why would I want that?"

He smiled at her grimly, "So you wouldn't feel guilty about leaving me here." He stood up swiftly from the water, climbing back up on the bank. "I won't do it." He called back to her. "If that's why you came back here, you wasted your time."

Cat sighed in frustration, standing up and facing him, "Don't do that, alright!" she snapped, "Don't try and make me out to be the criminal! I didn't say yes, because I _don't_ want to leave you here. I came back here for you, because I missed you!"

"And after you leave here, you go to Paris with him and I never see you again, is that it?" he said, whirling around. "Is that why you really came back here, Cat? So you could say goodbye to me?"

"_No_! No, I was-" she stopped short, licking her lips and lowering her voice, "I was hoping you'd come with me."

Heath stared at her, then shook his head incredulously. "God, Cat…." He murmured, "You still don't get it yet, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You can't have me and Edgar Linton at the same time. I can't live in his world- and he can't live in mine."

"Heath, Edgar has nothing to do with-"

"He has everything to do with it, Cat. This isn't about your career- this about us. You, me and him. Tell me right now who you want: me or him."

"Don't do this, Heath, it's not fair-" she began, but he cut her off, beginning to walk back towards her,

"I don't care about being fair, Cat. I want you to answer my question. Him or me?" He reached her and stood close, their bodies nearly touching each other. He stared into her eyes, not allowing her too look away. Cat felt her stomach beginning to tie into knots. Her heart began beating faster and faster. Heath's hand was suddenly at her face, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Him….or me, Cat?" Their faces were drawing nearer and nearer to each other, and Cat could already feel her lips parting.

She swallowed the egg in her throat and whispered, "Why are you asking me to give up everything I've ever wanted for you?"

"Because _you're_ everything I ever wanted," he answered, "And I'm not willing to give you up." As the last words left his mouth, his lips molded against hers in a kiss. Cat closed her eyes, surrendering to it with a low sigh.

Without another word, Heath grabbed hold of Cat's waist and pulled her body to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes to meet the kiss, as she dug her fingers in his slicked hair.

She didn't resist him when Heath's hands went to her blouse She helped him unbutton it and toss it to her ground. She herself unzipped her skirt and allowed it to drop to her feet. The feel of his bare skin against hers was so real and had never seemed so right. As Heath lowered her body down to the ground, Cat's mind was lost to everything but the here and now- and the memory of when they had last made love. That memory made everything else seem unimportant to her. Arching back her neck, she looked up at the night sky as Heath showered her neck and chest with kisses. The sky was clear, and full of stars. The moon resembled a single pearl amidst an almost black backdrop. It was beautiful. She hadn't seen a view this beautiful since she had sat on her balcony back in New York at Edgar's-

Cat froze with a gasp.

Edgar.

_Oh God-_

"Stop," she said frantically, "Oh my- Heath, you have to stop. Stop right now. Don't!"

As she pushed herself out of Heath's arms, Cat rolled away to the side, hurriedly pulling her bra back down into place.

"Cat, what's the matter?" he asked, bewildered.

"I can't do this." Her voice shook as she stood to her feet. Her eyes watered and she furiously wiped at them. _Oh my God_, she thought to herself, _Oh God!_

"Why not?" he asked, still remaining where he was on the ground, "What did I do wrong now?"

"It's not about you, it's not about us." She said quickly. Cat reached for her clothes with trembling fingers, pulling them on speedily, "I just have to go now." _Right now._

Heath jumped up to his feet, standing over her as she dressed, "Cat, will you just tell me what's wrong? What's making you so upset?"

"I can't-" she broke off and shook her head fervently, "I don't want to talk about it right now. So let's just forget about this, okay?" She started walking away through the trees.

"No," he said impatiently as he followed her. He took hold of her arm, "No, I don't want to forget about it, I want you to talk to me. Tell me what I've done."

"You didn't do anything!" She shouted, "Didn't I just say that?!"

"Where are you going?" he demanded, and she heard the hardness enter his voice, "Where are you _going_?"

"None of your damn business." She retorted acidly. Her eyes were burning, and she was determined not to let Heath see that she was about to cry. "Now let me go."

"Don't you go to Him." Heath's grip on her arm tightened, "Don't you dare run away from me to go to Him."

"Who I 'run' to, is none of your business, Heath!" she said through gritted teeth, "I want to leave. Let go of my arm."

"Why can't _you_ let go?!" he snapped at her, "Why don't you let go of _me_?! Just do it, Cat! Just let go and stop playing this stupid, fucking game! "

Cat jerked her arm free and turned around, starting to walk back into the woods. Heath's voice bellowed after her, echoing and hoarse,

"Do you like this? Huh? Do you like ripping me apart?! I'm standing here and you're… _fucking_ burning me to the ground, Cat! _Cat!_ Damn you, get back here! CAT!!!"

Cat kept going, trekking through the forest as fast as she could, uncaring of the sharp branches, pine cones and rocks on the ground that cut into her feet. Her eyes felt hot and gritty and her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it loud and clear in her ears. As she walked, she looked around her nervously, as if she expected someone to come out from behind this tree or another.

No not someone. Just one; one person.

Edgar.

"Oh God," she repeatedly murmured to herself, "Oh God…"

_What was I thinking? What got into me? How was I able to forget about Edgar completely in just a few minutes? How? Edgar's given me everything, he wants to marry me. What if he finds out about this? What will happen then?_

"I can't ever tell him," Cat suddenly said aloud to herself, "It won't do any good- and it would only hurt him in the end."

_Then what do I do about Heath? How can I keep this from happening again?_ She didn't fool herself by putting confidence in her own will power- that had shown itself to be fallible in the past few minutes. Heath had a way of causing her desire to make love erupt into a volcanic eruption of desperation. She couldn't fight it on her own- not after long.

_I __**do**__ have to choose, _she suddenly decided. _I do. But I can't choose Heath. Not now. Not when there's still so much more for me out there. This has nothing to do with him- it's about my future. My career. Everything I've worked so hard for. I can't just give it up- he can't expect me to just give it up._

Heath wouldn't understand, of that Cat was certain.

_He'll have to try and understand_, she resolved_, I hope to God he tries to understand…_

_

* * *

Read and Review!:)  
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	30. Chapter 30: The Effects of Deprivation

_A/N: Hey guys, update time again. I hope everyone enjoyed the last two chapters, and thanks to those who reviewed. I'd really like to send a BIG thank you to mrdarcylover and You Don't Know555, who have been super faithful in reviewing my little fanfiction. I appreciate it a LOT guys:) I'm really enjoying writing The Heights, and it's great to see that so many people (literally around the world) are reading (and hopefully) enjoying it as well. Keep with me guys, there's so much more to come:)--Jess_

**Chapter Thirty: The Effects of Deprivation**

She holed herself up in The Grange. Afraid to even go near her home and The Heights, Cat remained in the illustrious vacation neighborhood, trying to think of Heath as little as possible.

It may have been better if her company hadn't been so unbearable. Isabella had long bored Cat with her talk of fashion, art and gossip. She was a shallow, selfish girl, the kind Cat had always avoided growing up. The neighbors in the other vacation homes were even worse; haughty and self centered to the core, they only talked and cared about trivial things.

And Edgar was Edgar.

Cat couldn't stand his unconditional love for her. It seemed to make him blind to the truth that to her seemed obvious. He was so patient, so accepting of her foul moods. He never shouted at her, never lost his temper, never even became irritated. Sometimes, just because she wanted to push him, Cat would deliberately pick a fight with Edgar, trying to get him to lose it with her, just once. But she always failed. He never lost his cool. She resented that so very much. She wasn't used to it. With Heath, Henry, and even her dad, Cat had faced the male temper. All three of them had lost their temper with her at least once before, She wasn't afraid of anger, she never had been. Anything remotely like it would have been better than Edgar's complacency.

Still… she didn't dare go back home.

"Ellie called again for you today," Isabella said one night at dinner, "Francie's having her shower in next week and she wants to know if you want to come."

Cat snorted as she sliced her sole, "A shower with what guests? All of our neighbors are gone!"

"Still, she is your sister in law- and she's carrying your little niece or nephew. You should go."

"I'll think about it." Cat said shortly.

Isabella and Edgar exchanged glances with each other and Isabella shrugged, "O-kay." She said quietly. After another few moments of silence, she remarked, "Isn't your birthday coming up soon?"

"Two weeks." Cat answered.

"Did you want to go back to New York so that we could throw you a big party?"

"No thank you." She replied dryly. Just the thought of a party filled with fashion tyrants like Otis and the Linton's bourgeois friends was more than she wanted to bear.

"Oh but Catherine, it's your twenty first birthday!" Edgar protested, "You _have_ to do something for it!"

Cat sighed heavily and set down her silverware, "Alright fine. Why don't you and Isabella bake me a cake or take me out to a bar and get me wasted?"

"Seriously though, Catherine," he said with the gentlest of reproof, "Let us do something for you."

"I don't want to go back to New York just yet," she said stubbornly, "I just got back here."

"Well you haven't even been back to your home in over two wee-" Isabella began hotly, but Edgar cut her off,

"Okay, okay…How about we have the party at your place?"

"My house?" Cat repeated incredulously, "Are you joking?"

He smiled ruefully, "Alright, we won't have it at your place then! Will the pool house here suffice?"

She paused, sighing again, "If we have to have it at all-"

"Yes, we do!" Isabella broke in, "It's been forever since I've been to a party, and I happen to miss it like crazy! Don't worry we won't make you do a thing, just leave it all to me and Edgar!"

* * *

Ellie was rifling through the mail two weeks later, when she came across an envelope with a return address that read, Edgar Linton 865 Thrushcross Avenue, The Grange. Frowning in surprise, she opened the envelope, scanning the contents that were inside.

_Edgar and Isabella Linton wish to invite you to join them as they celebrate the 21st__ birthday of Miss Catherine Rowena Ernshawl, on the tenth of September, at approximately 12 o clock in the afternoon. Please RSVP to-_

"Something the matter Ellie?" Francie asked her from over the table. Ellie looked up from the letter, "Huh?"

"You look a little distressed about something- is anything wrong?"

"What- oh no, no." She replied, stuffing the invitation back inside the envelope, "The Lintons are throwing a birthday party for Cat, and we've all been invited is all."

"Oh, well isn't that nice," Francie said with a smile, "We'll be going then, won't we Henry?" she turned to look at him expectantly. He smiled wryly,

"Sure, why not? After all she is family- isn't she? Despite not showing her face around here for what- a month, right?"

"Now, now," Francie said, "I'm sure it's because Cat has other things to do. She's very busy nowadays, what with her career and all. I don't blame her at all for being preoccupied with that."

"I'll guess I'll call them at the Grange and let 'em know we'll be coming." Ellie said, "And I suppose that means I'll have to pick out something halfway decent to wear to this. The invite says black tie wear…"

"Well why don't we all go shopping?" Francie suggested brightly, "It's been a while since I've had any new clothes and I think Cat would want us to try and look our best. What do you think hon?" she said, turning to Henry, who shrugged indifferently, saying "Whatever."

Ellie exchanged an awkward glance with Francie before rising to her feet, "I think it's a good idea," she said, "After all, I've been thinking that Heath could use some new clo-"

"Heath?" Henry broke in sharply, "What the hell does _he_ have to do with any of this?" An uncomfortable silence followed. Ellie and Francie looked at one another again. Francie looked down into her lap.

Ellie stared at Henry, "Well…it's Cat's birthday," she said, "I assumed…I thought that he would going."

Henry gave a harsh laugh. "What for? Why would _he _want to go to a party at the Grange?"

Ellie's gaze changed, becoming more cold, "It's been more than a month, Henry," she said quietly, "You know how much he would want to see her-"

"Well that's just too bad, isn't it?" he said, "Because it just happens that I've got a lot of work for old Heath on that day. He'll be too busy to even think about her, much less see her."

"Honey, c'mon," Francie began meekly, "Can't it wait? It's Cat's birthday- Heath was her best friend. You know how close they were. It wouldn't hurt to at least-"

"I said no, dammit!" Henry barked, cutting her off, "He's not going. That's it. If he does choose to invite himself, then he can invite himself to find another place to live. You can let him know that, Ellie, just in case he was thinking of doing anything stupid!"

Francie fell silent, saying nothing more. Ellie stared at Henry with thinly veiled disgust, a muscle working in her jaw. She abruptly stood up from the table, her chair scraping across the floor, "I have to go to the grocery store," she muttered tightly. Striding out of the room, she picked up her purse from a table in the hallway, and got her coat out of the closet.

She was fishing for her keys in her purse at the car door, when she sensed a presence next to her. Looking up, Ellie jumped and gave a small yelp, "_God_! Heath, what's the matter with you? You know better than to scare me like that?"

Heath didn't reply to her exclamation. His face was shadowed and his eyes anxious. "I saw the letter," he said, "From the Grange. I saw it," he closed his hand around her wrist, "Was it from her? Did she-" he paused, licking his lips anxiously, "Did she say anything…about me?"

Ellie looked at him pitiably, and Heath saw the look in her eyes. His jaw tightened and she felt his grip on her wrist squeeze harder, "Well?" he said, his voice low and hard.

"It wasn't a letter from Cat," she replied at last, "It was an invitation. The Lintons are having a birthday party for her- a big, fancy party."

He nodded numbly, "And- and nothing from her?"

Ellie shook her head no and he let go of her wrist. Heath's piercing green eyes were cast down, seeing nothing. A muscle worked inside his jaw. He swiped his hand across his hair quickly, "Well, are- are we going to it? This _party _they're having for her?"

Ellie's gaze became more strained. He saw it, frowning, "What? What is it?"

"Heath." She murmured quietly, "Henry isn't going to let you go."

Heath stared at her for a long moment, and she saw something in his face crack; he hadn't been prepared for that, she could tell. His dark eyebrows were drawn down so hard that the slant in his forehead formed a crease in his brow. His mouth parted in a thin slit of darkness. Then she heard his voice, matching he hardness in his eyes, "And how does he think he's going to stop me from coming anyway?"

"If you do come," she answered, "He'll throw you out of The Heights- and off this land."

A sharp, swift exhalation of breath escaped from between his lips. It was followed by what seemed to be two silent laughs- but the twist of Heath's mouth was bitter. He leaned his arms against the edge of the truck bed, letting his head drop and his eyes shut. Combing his fingers through his greasy hair, he held them there for a long moment, before straightening up and turning around without another word. He started striding back towards the Heights, his pace quickened. Ellie watched him go, then when he had gone back inside the garage, she climbed into the truck and stuck the key in the ignition, preparing to start it.

Suddenly, she heard something like an enormous crash from inside the Heights. It was followed by the sound of shattering glass, then another crash, then another.

Ellie got out of the car, looking back toward the direction of the garage. She saw Joe hurriedly amble out the main entrance and rushed over to him, "Joe!" she called out, "Joe, what in the world is going _on_ in there?!"

"That possessed little demon, that's what!" he grumbled, "I've told Henry he should get that little rat put in a crazy house, but he-"

She cut him off. "What happened? What did you say to him?"

"Me?" the gruff old man said in angry surprise, "'Twasn't a thing I did! The boy just came in, didn't say nothin' for a minute. Then all of a sudden picks up a crowbar and starts smashin and tearin' up everythin in sight! Them damn eyes of his make him look like he's plumb crazy! Never seen a damn thing like it 'n all my life! I'm tellin' you Ellie, we oughta have 'im, locked- hey, don't go in there!"

Ellie had moved on and begun to walk towards the entry way to the Heights, ignoring Joe's calls after her. She opened the door and cautiously stood in the doorway.

Inside, the garage was already wrack with broken debris and parts, strewn about everywhere. Heath was standing in the midst of the pandemonium, swinging the metal crowbar every which way at everything within his reach. His hair had escaped from the ponytail it was usually in and strewed about his face and neck with every swing he made. His emerald green eyes were flashing flames. In between every blow and swing he made, Heath made grunts that were even more angry and fierce than his movements. He seemed insatiable in his destructing of everything in his path.

Ellie stayed exactly where she was, not daring to say anything or try and stop him. She knew better than that.

Heath shattered a glass jar holding some large bolts before heaving the crow bar away from him to the floor. As he did, his angry grunt melted into an infuriated yell that made the hairs on Ellie's arms rise. He screamed long and hard, the cords in his neck sticking out from the effort.

When at last the sound died in his throat, she watched as Heath dropped to his knees heavily, his head falling down to his chest, as he panted hard for breath. He raised his dirtied hands up to his head and held it, as he clenched handfuls of his hair in between his fingers.

"Why…" she heard him breath in between his pants, "Just…just tell me why…"

"Hurts doesn't it?"

Ellie heard a voice from across the garage and looked in its direction. Henry was leaning against one of the garage door entryways to the Heights, his arms folded across his chest. There was a sardonic kind of grin on his lips, and grim sort of gleefulness in his eyes.

Heath slowly raised his head to look at him, still breathing heavily. He said nothing, his mouth shut.

Henry began walking towards him leisurely, sliding his hands into his jean pockets, "It hurts when you see the person you love most pass you over for someone else- and it _really_ hurts when you know that other person doesn't deserve it. When you know with every ounce of your being that they don't deserve the affection of the person you love. I should know, shouldn't I, It?"

Heath still said nothing, but he looked away from Henry, down to the ground in front of him.

Henry gave a small chuckle, "You know- to be fair, I gotta admit that I don't think she's right for Linton any more than you do. He's a damn fool if he thinks she's the girl for him. But…" he gave a shrug with his shoulders, making his face contemplative. "There are things about him that make up for their differences. He does drive a pretty badass car, doesn't he? Cat always wanted to drive in one, you know. And that house of his," he whistled, "Nothing she's used to from being around here- I don't blame her for staying there, not wanting to leave it. Hell, maybe she'll never come back. I really can't think of anything for her here she'd wanna come back for… what do you think?"

Heath remained silent. Ellie looked down at his fists; they were clenched so hard the knuckles, and skin surrounding them were pure white.

"Yeah… why'd she leave Edgar Linton when he's just got so damn much going for him? The guy's got money, cars, good looks, connections…" Henry leaned forward towards Heath and sniffed at the air. He grinned wider and snickered, adding, "Personal hygiene." He leaned back, and looked around, as if seeing the condition of the garage for the first time."Wow," he said in mock surprise, "Wonder what could have happened in here? You know, It? No? Hmm.." he shrugged, "Well, as long as you're here, you can clean it all up, can't you? It looks like it'll take a while- but seeing as how you're staying behind from the festivities, I'd say that wasn't such a big problem." He started to walk away, but paused as if remembering something all of a sudden, "Oh yeah, um…did you want me to tell her anything, give any kind of message? I could ask her to come by for a visit, but seeing as how it's been over a month since she's been here and still no word," he made a clicking, apologetic sound with his teeth, "I can't make any guarantees. No? Nothing at all?" He smiled and shrugged, "Well, I guess that's just the way love goes, huh It?" He turned and walked towards the garage door again, calling back, "Don't work too hard now…"

Even when he had gone, Heath didn't move. He knelt very still and quiet on the ground. The only indication that he was living at all was the rise and fall of his shoulders.

At last, Ellie decided to do something and came forward from where she stood and over to where Heath was kneeling. She crouched down beside him, "Heath…" she murmured his name sympathetically, "God, hon, I'm so- I'm so sorry…" she let her voice trail off when she realized that he still hadn't moved. Not even his facial expression had changed. He was as still as a statue.

Ellie frowned a little, calling out his name concernedly, "Heath? Heath?"

He still said nothing, but she sensed a movement and looked down. His fists were slowly unclenching. She sucked in a shallow breath at what she saw. His fingernails had cut into the skin; deeply. Little paths of blood stained his palm and fingertips. It still seeped from in between the wounds.

"Oh God," she murmured again, "God- Heath…" her fingertips grazed the very top of his shoulder. He jerked back as if she had burned him, a fierce hiss escaping from in between his lips,

"Don't you _touch _me! You think I want your _fucking_ pity?!" His eyes had become incensed again, but there was something different in them now- something that made Ellie draw back a little.

He began breathing heavily again, his mouth cracking open a little. Ellie held her hands up in front of him cautiously, "Heath-just- just calm down, alright? Just calm down.."

His reply was the abruptly rise to his feet and turn around, making for the door. Ellie called his name, but he didn't answer, going outside. She watched from the doorway as he swiftly went around to the back of The Heights and trek across the field behind, toward the forest.

Ellie shaded her eyes from the sun as she watched him go. "He'll kill himself from loving her," she murmured. "And he doesn't even care…"

* * *

Ellie went out to the Heights again later that night. She didn't know why she was going- she didn't know what she could possibly say to Heath that would ease the pain she knew he was feeling. There was a measure of truth in what Henry had said. Cat seemed to have lost all her reason to come back home. She hadn't even called the house once since her return from New York. Ellie wasn't a fool- she knew that there had to be a reason that Cat was so blatantly avoiding her home and the people in it. To be more specific, there had to be a reason she was so blatantly avoiding the one person there she loved the most.

Ellie believed that Cat loved Heath. She knew that the girl did. The problem was- Cat didn't know it. Or if she did, she was choosing to ignore it for some reason. Ellie sensed that Cat had found or been given a reason to ignore her feelings for Heath in New York. Something had happened there to change her. Ellie had a suspicion of what it was- but she chose not to dwell on it. At least not now…

To her surprise, the Heights was empty. Heath wasn't there. He must have remained in the forest from earlier. The mess he had made earlier during his outburst remained however; she decided to clean it up. It took her a while- Heath had done a thorough job of turning the place inside out. But she had a good idea of where everything that could be salvaged went. The rest she threw away. About an hour later, she decided rather than go to bed, to go and try to find Heath. She almost decided against it- the autumn had been rather bitter, causing there to be a chilly wind in the air that night. But something in her gut urged her to go after him anyway. The boy was alone far too often- who knew what the combination of that solitude and the deprivation of seeing Cat had done to him..

Ellie had to go rather far into the woods while looking for Heath. She called out his name repeatedly, but there was no reply. The darkness was piercing- even with the aid of the flashlight she'd brought with her.

She reached a small clearing and was about to turn back, when she heard something like the splashing of water on the other side of some trees in front of her. Ellie assumed it to be the sound of some animal or fish or other, and almost went on her way, but once again felt led by what she assumed was curiosity to go through the trees and see what was causing the commotion.

When she stepped through the trees and shone her flashlight on the lake, a silent gasp emerged from her throat.

Heath was standing in the lake, the water rising just above his waist. He was stripped of his clothes, which lay on the bank near her feet. He had something clenched in both fists, which she couldn't make out at first. Then she looked closer; it was grit and gravel. He was rubbing the tiny, jagged stones and dirt across his skin furiously, even as some escaped from between his fingers and fell into the water.

Ellie immediately started forward, hurrying a few steps into the lake, then pausing when she felt how cold the water was against her skin, "Heath!" she screamed out, her voice pierced with horrified frustration, "What are you _doing_?! Are you trying to give yourself a pneumonia? Get out of that water before you kill yourself!"

Heath paid her no attention, only continuing to scrub himself harder and harder. She saw however, that his jaw clenched tighter at her voice.

"Did you hear what I said?!" she yelled, "You're going to make yourself sick if you don't get out of that water and get warm! Don't you care whether you live or die?"

"NO!" he abruptly roared at her, letting all of the stuff in his hands fall away into the water. Ellie jumped with a gasp, but stood her ground. She looked at him in silence as she saw the look on his face.

Heath was panting heavily, his breath rising up in small swirls of smoke in the air above him. He let out a sigh that sounded more like a shudder, looking away from her as he sniffed once, "No," he muttered, "I don't care whether I live or die….not anymore. Now just leave me alone." He plunged his hands into the icy water and moved his arms about back and forth, obviously feeling around for more gravel.

"She cares whether you live or die, Heath," Ellie said. She saw his arms still in their movement, but he didn't look up at her. "She wouldn't want you to be doing this to yourself."

"She doesn't give a damn about me," he replied, his voice tight and hoarse.

"You have to know that isn't tr-"

"Then where is she?!" he yelled, his voice thick and wild with vehemence. "Where is she, Ellie?! _Where_?!"

Ellie said nothing. He sniffed loudly, drawing his hands out of the water. His fists were both full of more of the grit and gravel. He scrubbed the stuff against his skin roughly, gritting his teeth as he did.

"Cat being away doesn't have anything to do with you being dirty, Heath. You know that." She said calmly. At that, he stilled in what he was doing, allowing some of the gravel to drop back into the water. He slowly shook his head back and forth. When he spoke again, she had to learn forward to even hear him,

"I don't want to believe that. Being dirty- if that was the reason…I could fix that. It's something I _can_ change. But if it's not that- if it's something else-" He broke off then, his voice cracking. He looked away.

Ellie looked at him, sympathy filling her face. "Here," she said, holding out her hand to him, "C'mon and come with me. Please."

He hesitated for a moment, then turned, and moved forward through the water towards her, placing his hand in hers. As they walked up the bank and back on onto the dirt floor of the forest, she felt him begin to shiver. Beneath her hand, she felt the goosebumps and hair rise on his skin. His teeth gave small chatters, and his cheeks shook.

Taking off the shawl that was thrown around her shoulders, Ellie cast it around Heath, balling it up tight in front. "Here," she said briskly, "Hurry up and put your clothes back on. If it's a bath you want- then I can help you there."

* * *

Some forty minutes later, Ellie came back into the bathroom adjoining her bedroom, a set of towels in her hand. She placed them on the closed lid of the toilet, which sat beside the bathtub. "Here's something for you to dry off yourself and hair with when you get out."

"Thank you." He said quietly. Heath sat in the tub, water and soap coming up to the middle of his chest. The top of his knees poked through the bubbles. His hair hung in sleek, wet hanks on his shoulders and upper back. He'd scrubbed and washed at himself with a towel she'd given with him and a bar of soap. Now he was rinsing the soap from his body, splashing his body and face with water.

Looking at him wistfully, Ellie knelt down beside the tub and took the towel out of his hand. "Here, let me." She began rinsing off his body herself. She sucked in a sharp breath when she saw the dark red streaks and scrapes on his skin he'd made from scrubbing himself so hard with the gravel in the lake. Some of them were still bleeding. "Good Lord…" she murmured, shaking her head. "I still don't know what put it in your mind to do something as stupid as that, Heath. What were you trying to do, kill yourself?"

"No," he replied, "I was trying to be clean."

"And a fine job you did of it!" she said drily, "Is that how you wanted Cat to see you when she comes back? Your skin all rubbed off and raw?"

Heath squared his jaw, looking straight ahead stonily, "Cat's not coming back."

"Don't say that," she admonished him, "How could you know something like that?"

He let his head drop and was quiet for a moment before murmuring, "Because she doesn't want to see me."

Ellie bit her lip, trying to think of something she could say that could disprove what he had said (though she knew that his conclusion was probably the correct one) At last, she managed to ask, "And how do you know that?"

"Because…because I'm not Edgar Linton."

It was her turn to be quiet for a long moment. Then, she shook her head, saying, "You shouldn't think that way, Heath."

"Why not?" he asked swiftly, "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"You're you. You're Heath Ernshawl. Don't try and be anything different.- that's silly. "

"But Cat wants Edgar Linton," he said, looking up at her. Ellie saw that his face was creased into a look of exasperated anxiety. He looked so forlorn and dejected. "She wants him- and I'm _not _him! Don't you understand what that means, Ellie? I'm not what she wants—I can't even _try _to be-" he broke off abruptly. Without warning, he slammed his fists into the water, sending some of it sloshing over the side of the bathtub. Ellie sighed heavily, picking up a towel as she knelt on her knees to clean it up. Bracing his fingers against his forehead, he muttered, "God…why? Why?"

"Why what, Heath?"

"Why can't I look like him? Why can't I have his money? Why can't I _be_ him?"

Ellie paused in what she was doing when she hear that, and looked up at Heath for a long moment. Sighing again, she tossed the cloth down and stood to her feet. She picked the bath towel up off the toilet and held it out to him, "Here," she said briskly, "Get out."

Heath paused at first, then climbed out of the tub, wrapping the towel around his waist. Ellie had taken up the smaller towel and ran it over his crown, seeping the water from his hair. She then took him by the arm and steered him over to the sink, where a mirror hung on the wall. She stood behind him before the glass. "Look." She ordered briskly. When Heath saw what she was doing, he started to break free from her grasp and move away from the mirror, murmuring, "No.." But Ellie only gripped his arms tighter, refusing to let him go,

"Oh no you don't. Look. I want you to look at yourself, Heath."

He stubbornly kept his eyes averted to the floor for a few more moments, then cast a fleeting glance at his reflection. Then another. And another. On the next time, the glance held and he stared at himself. Ellie stared at him through the reflection, saying, "Now how you could ever say something so foolish, Heath? Hmm? Don't you think you're even a _little_ nice to look at? Do you want to know what I see? I see a handsome young man in there. Look at your face; that tall forehead, your chiseled chin. Your cheeks look like they've been sculpted out, they're so defined. Heath look at your eyes; do you think those are the kind of eyes you see everyday? I've been alive for forty two years, and I've seen some pretty damn striking eyes- but none of em can hold a candle to yours. And with that black hair, you look just like a dark, handsome prince." She smiled, "When I was your age, _you_ were just the kind of boy all of us girls swooned after- not ones that looked like Edgar Linton. Things can't have changed all that much since then."

"What does any of that mean when Cat's not here?" he asked dully, "What does any of it mean when she prefers him to me?"

Ellie expression became dry, "Cat's not so different than you may think, Heath. There's more about Edgar Linton that impresses her than his looks. You and I both know that."

"Yeah," he murmured, "I know that….And that's what I'm afraid of."

She was silent, staring at him through the mirror wistfully, "Heath," she began, "Isn't there any chance that- that you could-"

"Could what?" he said sharply. She saw the change that came over his face. It was terse and tense; he knew what she was going to say already.

"That you could just- just try to let her go?" Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Heath broke away from her grasp and went over to the toilet sitting on the lid heavily. His head hung low above his chest and he combed his fingers through his wet hair, holding it. Ellie was right behind him, she knelt before him on her haunches, looking up at him concernedly, "Heath, please, just listen. I want you to understand that I know- I know how you feel about her. I know how much you love Cat- I understand that. But-," she shook her head, "But you're only hurting yourself in this. Every day, ever since Will died, I've watched you take hit after hit- here… and here," she touched a bruise on his arm, but then pressed her hand to his chest, right over his heart. "Do you really want to take more?" she shook her head, "It's not worth it, Heath. It isn't. Whatever it is that you're staying here for- Cat, or an idea of Cat that you've had…it isn't worth it."

Heath said nothing for a long moment, then raised his head and looked at her, his striking eyes shadowed and stony, "If you really understood the way I feel about her," he murmured, "If you really knew just how much I-" he broke off abruptly, then shook his head slowly, "…Then you would never say that to me….or think that I would ever believe it."

Ellie sighed, raising back up to her feet and turning away from him as she rubbed at her eyes wearily. From behind her, she heard Heath's voice, hoarse, but firm,

"You have to help me see her, Ellie. I _need_ to see her."

After a long moment, had passed, she turned back around, giving another heavy sigh, "Alright," she said, "Alright then, I'll…I'll help you."


	31. Chapter 31: The Ugly Truth

_A/N: I'm so, so, SO sorry everyone. Please believe me when I say I never meant to take this long to get this update up. First of all, the spring semester got over and there was a lot of craziness that happened in RL directly after that. Now I'm taking summer courses and have a lot less time to write. And this chapter was for some reason really hard for me to write. I grappled with some tough decision making about the direction to take it before I finally made up my mind. My most humble apologies about taking so long with this. Enjoy the chapter, and I'm really going to try to get the next one up within a few days this time. Thanks so much for alll who read and review, I appreciate you more than you could ever know--Jess_

** Chapter Thirty One: The Ugly Truth**

Cat sat in front of the mirror, arranging her hair up on top of her head with the numerous bobby pins strewn out across the vanity table. Her hair had already been taken out of the hot rollers and now lay on her on shoulders in fat, glossy curls. Her makeup had been flawlessly applied, and the white mini dress she planned to wear was neatly laid out across the bed behind her. It was sleeveless and tight, accentuating her every curve. Cat had initially felt uncomfortable in wearing them, but as time had went by, she'd got used to it so that now it didn't bother her in the least.

From downstairs she could already hear the sounds of her birthday party guests chatting in the broad hallway of the Linton's home. She was expected to come down any minute now, she knew, but Cat wished she could stay exactly where she was and curl up in bed to watch television.

Just as she was pinning the last curl into place, Edgar appeared in the doorway, knocking on it softly, "Is our birthday girl ready yet?" he asked brightly, coming inside to sit down next to her. He looked dashingly attractive in his white linen pants and sports coat that he had dressed down by wearing a polo shirt underneath. Somehow, Edgar always dressed to perfection.

"Yeah, just a sec." she said distractedly, standing up from the stool to untie her bathrobe. As she slid into the mini dress she asked, "Is everyone here?"

"Yep," he said, "Everyone from The Grange, Ellie, Francie, even Henry came. Isabella was real persuasive in her invitations it seems."

"Damn," Cat murmured under her breath, "So I don't suppose there's any chance of me being able to change my mind about going down there is there?"

He smiled and shook his head, "Sorry sweetheart."

"I just don't know why everyone is making such a big deal of it anyway," she said, "It's just a birthday- they stop mattering when you stop being a kid!"

"Will you just stop worrying?" he urged tenderly, "You're turning twenty one today. There's a group full of people down there that have come to celebrate you. You have a crap load of presents to open. Isabella has made this place look incredible. And your birthday cake is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He paused then as she faced him to slip into her white pumps, looking at her up and down.

Cat noticed him staring and shook her head impatiently, "What is it?"

Edgar stood up from the stool and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him, "Well," he murmured, "The second most beautiful thing I've ever seen, that is…" he nuzzled the side of her cheek, flitting kisses down her neck, "God you're gorgeous Catherine," he said into her skin, "I've gotta be the luckiest man in the world."

She grazed her fingers through his hair idly, "Or you're hoping to get lucky tonight!"

He laughed, "Is that an offer?"

Cat smiled, "What do you think?"

He drew back and chucked her under her chin, "I think you'd better quit with that kind of talk or you won't make it down those stairs!"

She rolled her eyes, "How I wish that could happen! C'mon-let's get it over with!" she hurried out of the room and into the hallway toward the stairs.

Edgar hurried after, "Wait, wait wait!" he called, catching hold of her forearm, "Not so fast Miss!"

"What now?" Cat asked wearily.

"I have to give you your birthday present."

She gave a small frown, "But Edgar, you already did, what do you call these?" her hands went to the diamond studs in her ears, and the matching necklace at her throat.

But Edgar only smiled at her secretively, "I'd call those…the preliminary presents."

Cat shut her eyes and groaned, "Edgar, what next?"

"Something a little more….personal." he reached into his pocket and drew out a small, black box. He held it in front of her and opened it so that she could see inside. Cat's mouth dropped open a little as she gave a quiet gasp.

"Oh God…" she murmured.

It was a ring. The diamonds in it caught the light, sparkling brilliantly. It was breathtaking.

She looked back up at Edgar, seeing his smile had become even more gentle and warm. "Oh God…" she murmured again, "Edgar…"

"You said you needed time. Well, I've given you time…now I'm hoping you have an answer for me."

He knelt down on one knee, holding the box out to her. Cat sighed again,

"Edgar, you don't have to do this again-"

"Catherine Rowena Earnshawl, I love you." He said steadily, "Will you marry me?"

She looked down at him in silence, biting her lower lip a little. If she said no, she would break Edgar's heart. He wouldn't understand a refusal- not after everything that had happened between them. How could she say no after all he had done for her?

But still….still and still…how could she say yes? How when saying yes would mean breaking another heart? How could she break that heart after everything that had happened between her and its owner? How, when he would never understand her accepting Edgar?

Heath had already said that he wouldn't live with her so long as she was still with Edgar. He'd refused. He wanted to make her choose between them.

Giving up Edgar wasn't just giving up Edgar. It was giving up everything in Edgar's world- the people, the connections…the money. She was making decent money as a model now- but Edgar had so much more of it. He had so much more of everything she wanted…

But giving up Heath- what would that mean?

Giving up Heath meant just that- giving _him_ up. Nothing else came with him- just himself. Just everything that he was to her.

But…but no. Saying yes to Edgar didn't have to mean giving up Heath. It didn't. It would just mean keeping something else. No matter what he said, no matter how angry or upset he got with her, Cat knew one thing about Heath- he would always be there. He would always wait for her. He would always want her. She knew he would. They would never lose what they had together- he would never walk away from it- he would never walk away from her. No matter what she did, Cat knew that Heath would never abandon her.

But there was no guarantee of that with Edgar, none. There was no such security. She had to accept him and have everything, or refuse him and have nothing but Heath.

And that wouldn't have been enough. She wanted more- she _needed_ more….

Cat slowly nodded her head, "Yes." She murmured softly.

Edgar's grin widened, showing his teeth, "Yes?" he repeated, "Yes you will?"

She nodded again, "Yeah. I will."

Edgar took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. He kissed the back of her hand, then kissed her, stroking her cheek. When their lips parted, he was still smiling. Cat tried to smile back at him.

"Thank you," he said, "You don't know how happy you just made me, Catherine. I love you so much."

"I- I love you too, Edgar." She replied, her voice shaking a little. She suddenly felt like she wanted to cry, like she just wanted to be alone. The ring felt heavy on her finger…and strange.

Edgar kissed her again, this time more lingeringly. When he pulled away he took up her left hand and they both looked at the engagement ring.

"Do you like it?" he asked, and she nodded,

"Yes! Yes of course I do, it's- it's beautiful…I just…I didn't expect-"

"I know you didn't. But I wanted to surprise you. I want to surprise everyone today."

"E-everyone?" she stammered, and he nodded,

"Yes, Catherine. I wanted to break the news about this to everyone while they're all here- our friends, our families, everybody. I think they should know. I want them to know- don't you?"

"I-I guess," she said feebly, hoping the lie didn't sound as insincere as she thought it did.

Edgar tipped her chin up, "Hey," he said, "Don't be nervous. Sooner or later, they were going to find out, right?"

She nodded, murmuring, "Yeah. Yeah I guess they were."

"You ready to face the music?" he nodded towards their open bedroom door. She nodded somewhat begrudgingly,

"Let's just do it."

He offered her his arm gallantly, "We have to make our grand entrance!"

She groaned, "Oh no, Edgar please! Not that!"

"C'mon, it's all apart of the plan," he said calmly, "That's why they're all waiting in the main hallway."

"I'm gonna kill Isabella!" she said through gritted teeth.

"Let's just enjoy the party first, okay?"

Cat and Edgar reached the top of the stairs, and paused on the top step, waiting until everyone gathered in the hallway stopped talking and saw them.

From looking in the sea of faces below, Cat could make out Isabella's satisfied grin, as well as several other faces she recognized from New York. Edgar's parents Linda and Gregory were there. A good deal of their neighbors in The Grange were there as well.

Ellie, Francie and Henry were standing together in a corner near the two front doors, seemingly isolated from the rest of the group. Ellie and Francie were beaming at her, Henry had his cynical smirk on his lips as he watched them.

Cat willed herself not to even think about the one person she didn't see there. She had spent the last few days convincing herself that he wouldn't come- that he wouldn't even be allowed to come. She told herself that she was unsurprised and not disappointed. She willed herself to believe that.

When the room had become completely silent, Cat and Edgar began to slowly walk down the stairs together, keeping in step. As the crowd began to break into appreciative, but polite applause, Cat plastered a flawless grin on her lips and leaned in closer to Edgar, whose smile she could tell, was absolutely genuine.

"At last our lady of the hour shows herself!" Isabella said grandly when they reached the bottom step, "I knew that when I sent Edgar after her, she'd come. The two of them are just inseparable!"

Everyone laughed, including Cat, who forced herself to, kissing Edgar on the cheek with much bravado and shrugging with playful apology.

Isabella beckoned to an unseen person with her hand, and in a few moments, the crowd was parting to reveal a cart being wheeled into the hallway. Cat looked and gasped,

An enormous cake was set upon the cart. It was the largest birthday cake she had ever seen.

The cake was five tiers, each one being wider in circumference than the first. The base sheet was white, being decorated in meticulously detailed cream and purple colored roses and rose petals. It was beautiful.

As the crowed oohed and ahed over the cake, the lights dimmed. Uniformed waiters with trays of champagne maneuvered their way through the crowd, passing out the flutes to everyone.

"Alright, let's have a speech!" Isabella called out.

Cat held up her hand in protest, "Oh no, no-"

But her voice was drowned out by the urging of the crowd, and eventually she nodded in defeat.

"Okay um," she began, "I'd like to thank you all for coming out here. This past year has been…" she trailed off and shook her head, "Incredible for me. My life has changed completely and for those of you who were there to support me, I thank you so much. I couldn't have done it without you." Cat raised her champagne flute and the crowd followed suit. After they had drunk, Isabella broke into song,

"Hap-py Birth-day to you, Hap-py Birth-day to you-"

Cat shook her head again, but it was too late as everyone else joined in, singing the song. As they ended with the last words, everyone broke into applause.

"Drinks and food on the patio!" Isabella called out, and the majority of people began filing down the hall towards the back of the house. As they did, Cat murmured to Edgar,

"She's really outdone herself on this, hasn't she?"

"Completely," he agreed, "You'd think it was her birthday instead. I've gotta make the rounds through the guests- as birthday girl, you better too."

"Can't we just both do it?" she pleaded, but he shook his head,

"It'll be quicker if we split up. Get it over with, eh?" He winked and quickly passed his hand over her bottom playfully, walking away into the crowd, "Stan! How you doing-"

Cat sighed, but plastered a brilliant grin on her face and moved into the sea of faces with light greetings. She spent the next half and hour greeting her guests with well concealed boredom and irritation. She bore their questions and conversations she had no interest in with steeled tolerance. As she neared the patio, her eyes picked out another unfortunately familiar face, "Marsha! I didn't expect to see you here!"

Marsha Ferris lived across the street from the Lintons. Her husband was a stock broker, and she was the snobbiest woman Cat had ever met. When Cat had first met her, she had practically snubbed her- until she'd found out that she was a model. Then she pretended like they were close as sisters.

"Catherine, happy birthday darling!" Marsha gushed, embracing Cat warmly. "You're looking radiant as usual. I love your shoes, they make your legs look perfect!"

"Oh thank you," Cat replied, "They're new, I'm just breaking them in now and-"

"Cat, there you are hon!"

Cat turned her head and saw Ellie and Francie making their way toward her.

"Happy birthday, Cat!" Francie said warmly, "You look beautiful!"

"Thanks," Cat said faintly, "You look…pregnant. God, isn't it time yet?"

Francie laughed, rubbing her belly, "Oh three more weeks the doctor says, but it feels like it could be any day!"

"Boy or girl?"

Francie smiled, "I wanna be surprised. A boy or girl would be just fine either way though."

"We wondered when you were gonna get to us," Ellie said, "Eventually I told Francie we should make it easier and just come over to you." She looked over and saw Marsha staring at them coolly, "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am I didn't see you there. Cat, could you-"

"Ye-ah," Cat said uneasily, "Marsha, this is Ellen Dean, she looks after my family, and this is my sister in law Frances Ernshawl. Ellie, Francie, Marsha lives across the street from us- I mean from Edgar and Isabella. She's from New York too."

"Pleasure ma'am."

"Hello there Marsha." Ellie and Francie both gave polite answers, but Marsha only nodded with a short smile,

"It's Mrs. Ferris actually. You'll excuse me but I'm a little uncomfortable around strangers and I just…well, you know."

"Oh, that's alright." Ellie said quickly, "I'm sorry about that. I'm just used to using first names." Cat saw how her face pinked and quickly sought to change the subject,

"Where's Henry Francie? I thought I saw him here with you."

"He's out on the patio." Francie answered simply, but Cat understood. Wherever the alcohol was, Henry was sure to be there too.

Cat only prayed he hadn't got himself drunk yet. When Henry got drunk, he acted like a fool.

"You know," she said to Francie, "Maybe you'd better-" she gestured pointedly towards the back of the house.

Francie already understood and nodded, "Yeah, I think you're right." She smiled at Marsha, "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Ferris." She began to waddle her way down the hall, a hand placed over her belly protectively.

Marsha cleared her throat briskly, "Well I'd better find Arthur- I'm not quite sure where he's got to. We'll talk later Catherine, alright?" She started to walk away, the paused and said stiffly, "Goodbye Mrs. Dean." walking away before Ellie even had the chance to reply.

Ellie made a face, "Well- that'll teach me to show up at a party in The Grange!"

"I'm really sorry Ellie." Cat said quietly, "Marsha's just a bi-"

"Yeah, I know her type Cat." Ellie said, but frowned, "And did I hear her call you Catherine? What's that about? Not even Will called you that!"

Cat shook her head, "Don't ask…" she paused for a moment, then licked her lips tentatively, "Henry didn't let him come, did he?"

Ellie glanced at her, "Would it matter to you if he had?"

She felt her face begin to warm, and looked away, "What do you mean? What difference does that make?"

"You've been ignoring him for over a month now, Cat. If you knew he was here tonight, would you speak to him now?"

Cat was silent, not knowing what to say. Finally she murmured, "You don't understand. _He_ doesn't understand. It isn't that simple."

"Yes or no, Cat?" she asked her calmly.

Cat sighed, falling quiet for a few moments before murmuring, "Yes."

Ellie stared at her for a few moments, then seemed to look behind her at something. Cat turned her head to follow Ellie's gaze, then felt a lurch in her stomach, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

Heath. He was standing right there behind her, looking down into her face in his stoic, yet intense way. As Cat looked him over, she noticed that his clothes seemed cleaner than the last time she had seen them- that he looked cleaner. The layer of dirt and grime that had been over his skin was gone. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and the shadow of hair that had been on his jaw was shaved away.

He looked like his old self- and for a moment, Cat thought that _she_ was her old self, and that nothing between the two of them had changed…for a moment.

"I-" she began softly, "I didn't think you'd be here."

"Are you sorry that I am?" he asked her. She was quiet for a moment, then shook her head, murmuring, "No." Inside, her mind was racing. _Oh no…oh no…oh no… _she kept thinking over and over again. Why did he have to come? Why did Edgar have to propose? Why did she say yes? Why couldn't' she have asked for more time? It all seemed like one horrible joke that was about to be played- and she felt utterly powerless to stop it.

"Cat," Heath took a step closer to her, "What's the matter? What have I done to make you run away from me?"

Cat shook her head miserably, "Heath, you… you haven't done anything." The truth in that one statement filled her with a bleak guilt. It wasn't about what Heath was or had done- it was about what he wasn't, and what he hadn't done.

"Then what's wrong?" he reached out and held her cheek in his hand; his rough, warm hand that Cat knew so well. At its touch, she sighed wearily and allowed her eyes to half close, leaning into it a little. "Just tell me." He urged.

What was she supposed to say to him? The truth? The horrible, ugly, appalling truth that would smash his heart to pieces?

"Everything," she whispered, "Everything's all wrong…"

"Do you hate me?" he asked her.

Cat's eyes flew open and she stared at him incredulously, "How can you even ask me that?"

"Then tell me what you _do_ feel. Tell me what you want- what you really want, Cat."

"Heath," Cat couldn't even look at him anymore, "Can't you see that it's too late for that?"

"Why?" he pressed, "Why is it too late?"

Her mouth had went so dry it hurt for her to swallow, "Be- because I've…because I'm going to…." She couldn't say the words to him. She _couldn't_.

"There you are!" Cat jumped, pulling her face out of Heath's hand when she heard Edgar's voice. He approached the two of them, smiling. When he reached her, he kissed her briefly, hugging an arm around her waist. Cat cast a glance back to Heath, her expression strained and embarassed.

"I've been looking all around here for you," Edgar was saying, "I thought, that maybe it would be a good time to make our little announcement?" his voice trailed off questioningly, then he paused when he saw the direction that her eyes were continually going in. He looked over at Heath briefly, then looked away. Then he did a double take, looking him over more closely. His face seemed to stiffen a little, but he managed a small, forced smile, "Oh. It's you. I uh…I didn't even recognize you for a minute there. You look…" He let his gaze sweep up and down Heath's body. "Different."

Heath didn't say anything to him. He only continued looking at Cat, who was looking at him, even as she murmured,

"Edgar…maybe…maybe this isn't such a good time." But Edgar only scoffed good naturedly, saying,

"Don't be silly Catherine, it's the perfect time! Everyone's here to hear the news- even Heath here," he gestured to Heath, "It couldn't be a better time."

It couldn't be a worse time, Cat thought to herself. It couldn't have been a worse time for this.

Suddenly, Heath spoke, his voice low and quiet, "A better time for what?" he asked, his eyes still fastened on her. He knows already, Cat thought, as she looked back at him, her expression becoming more and more bleak. He knows…but he doesn't want to believe it. He wants me to say that it isn't true. He wants me to change my mind.

It would have been amazing to her that Edgar didn't notice the tension and silent emotions being passed between her and Heath- had Edgar not been Edgar. Edgar, who never saw or recognized anything that would have created a flaw in Cat. He didn't seem to notice at all, placing his arm around her shoulder and smiling secretively with a wink, "An announcement." He answered, "Which we'll be making right about…now. Excuse us for a minute, Heath." Edgar drew her after him to the center of the terrace, calling out loudly, "Attention everybody! Hey, everyone gather round, we have an announcement to make!"

Cat kept casting desperate, guilt-ridden glances to Heath as Edgar drew her to the center of the terrace with him. Heath remained exactly where he was, staring at her with that stony eyed look of his. There was a grim sort of realization in his eyes. He didn't draw nearer to them with the other guests, standing at a distance on his own, while his arms folded over his chest.

The guests formed a wide, oval like shape around Cat and Edgar, all smiling expectantly. They too seemed to have a premonition of what was going to be said- or at least a hope for it. It was written on their faces.

Edgar placed his hand around Cat's waist, still smiling warmly. She tried to feign one as well, though not feeling as though it was very sincere. Her eye caught Ellie's in the crowd, and she suddenly felt even more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

"Catherine and I have something we'd like to share with all of you people," Edgar was calling out, "We thought it was appropriate seeing as everyone we love is here together, and we can share it with you all at once."

He clasped her closer to him, "I love this woman so much. It was the easiest thing in the world to fall in love with her, and I honestly can't imagine my life without her…" he paused one more time, "So, I've asked her to marry me…" A simultaneous murmur arose from the crowd, accompanied by gasps, making Edgar grin even wider, "And she's said yes, making us officially engaged." The murmur and gasps escalated into delighted exclamations, before the crowd began to applaud and cheer. Edgar laughed and kissed her forehead, basking in the attention. Cat on the other hand, only managed a feeble smile. Her eyes immediately went to Heath's, and their gaze locked. The look he gave her made her eyes hot and gritty. An egg was rising in her throat, so large and thick she could barely swallow. Her eyes glistened.

_Oh Heath,_ was all she could think. _Heath…_

The Lintons, as well as some of their close friends from New York rushed forward for Cat and Edgar, and she found herself surrounded by people, all hugging, kissing and offering her their congratulations all at once. While Edgar soaked it all up, she found herself still distracted. This time, her eyes met with Ellie's and she winced at the look the older woman was giving her. Was she angry at her too?

Her eyes went back to where Heath had been standing, but to her surprise, he wasn't there anymore. Cat's eyes hurriedly scanned the crowd, then saw his back as he was making his way back towards the way back into the house.

Cat didn't know why she did what she did next. But the sight of Heath leaving made her make a snap reaction and decision. She pulled her hand out of Edgar's, ignoring him when he called after her, asking where she was going. She maneuvered her way through the crowd as quickly as she could, excusing herself in the beginning. But when she saw how far away Heath was getting, she began to get impatient, and started to just push and shove her way through the guests. Once she got into the house, she ran, hurrying through the expansive hallway and out the doors.

"Heath!" she called out to him, but he ignored her, only continuing to walk down the driveway. Cat hurried after him,"Heath! Heath _wait_!" she reached him and grabbed hold of his arm. But he only yanked it out of her grasp, not even turning around to look at her.

"Don't do this, don't go." She said, walking after him. "Just stop and let me explain-" She ran in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. She took hold of his arms, but he shrugged her away more roughly.

"Get your hands _off_ of me!" he growled between his teeth.

"Well will you just listen to me then?!" she demanded, cringing at the look in his eyes. "I have to- I have to explain-"

"Then explain it." He broke in swiftly, his voice like steel. "You explain it to me, Cat. Explain to me what I'm going to do when you marry him and go away and I never see you again. Explain to me how I'm going to be able to live with knowing that I lost you to that weak, pathetic-"

"You didn't lose me, Heath!" she argued, "None of this has to have _any_thing to do with you and me. It doesn't have to-"

"You're going to _marry_ him!" he suddenly shouted at her, and she winced, "You're going to be his wife! _His_!" he shook his head at her, face stricken with angry grief, "How can you think that that wouldn't touch us? How can you think that that wouldn't destroy me?"

"Don't say that, Heath," she said shakily, "I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm just-"

"You're what? What? What are you trying to _do_, Cat? What the hell's the matter with you?! Does his money really mean more to you than me? Than us- everything we have?"

She shook her head, "No! No, of course not-"

"Then run away with me." He broke in. She stared at him for a long moment, the shock showing in her eyes,

"Wha- what?"

Heath's face softened a little and he came closer to her, his hands taking hers, "Run away with me," he repeated, "I'm willing to do it this time, Cat. I'll go anywhere that you want me to- I don't care where, just as long as I can be with you."

She searched his face intently, "You're- you're really serious about this?"

"Yes. I'll do it. Just as long as you leave him."

Cat froze, "L-leave him?" she stammered.

"Yes. I'll come with you, if you leave Edgar, and be with me- only me."

She said nothing, her face becoming blank. Heath saw, and gave a biting snort. He released her hands roughly. There was a bitter twist on his face, but his eyes betrayed the immense disappointment he felt, "There it is." He said, "There it is right there…"

"There's what?" she muttered miserably.

"The truth. The truth you're too much of a coward to even say."

"I'm not afraid of anything-" she tried to begin, but he cut her off,

"No?! Then why don't you say it, Cat! Just fucking _say_ it!" he grabbed hold of her arms, holding them tight. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as she bit her lip hard.

"Say it!" Heath was demanding, "Say you're never really going to choose me over him. Say you think I'm not good enough for you. Look me in my eyes and tell me that you care more about his money than us!"

Cat shook her head slowly, "Please." She said through gritted teeth, "Let…go of me…"

"Then you let go of _me_." He retorted, "Set me free. Let me hate you, ignore you, feel nothing- anything but love you!"

"Heath, you're hurting me-"

"You're _killing_ me. Do you think I can stand this anymore? I can't live my life without you in it. You're all I think. You're all I see. You're all I _am_…." His grip on her tightened, "If you can't feel the same way I do, then why can't you just let me _go_?!" He shook her hard and Cat gave a small whimper. Her eyes felt hot and there was an egg in her throat again.

"I hate you," he was muttering, "I hate you so much…" but suddenly she felt his hands caressing her arms, her neck, her face. He was breathing harder now, quicker. His lips were drifting across her cheek, then all around her face, kissing her fervently.

Cat let her eyes open a little, feeling her own breath begin to quicken. She turned her head, and suddenly her lips were against Heath's, her mouth parting in a shaky sigh. Their mouths moved back and forth against one anothers, meeting each other again and again. Heath's passion was almost an angry one. His kisses were hard, even rough. Her lips were bruised already, but Cat didn't care. She tried to wrap her arms around his neck, but he caught hold of her wrists and twisted them behind her back, holding them in a lock. The position he held them in was painful, and she gave a soft moan. But Heath didn't allow her to budge- it was almost like he wanted to hurt her- like he was determined to. It confused Cat- Heath had never been so….brusque with her. He was usually gentle with her when they were like this together…but now, there was nothing gentle about what he was doing. There was no control in this. It almost frightened her.

She was beginning to feel dizzy; the pressure of his lips against hers scarcely gave her the opportunity to even breathe.

Then, just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, she felt his lips slow down, and finally separate from hers. Cat leaned against him, her mouth still parted a little as she breathed in long, shaky gasps. Heath didn't seem out of breath at all. He stared down at her, his brows slanted into a grim, tight frown.

"You're mine." He muttered tightly, "You can marry anyone you want- but it doesn't change that. Nothing changes that, Cat. _Nothing_."

Abruptly, he let go of her and turned around, taking quick strides away and down the driveway. Cat watched him go, still breathing raggedly.

She raised a hand to her throbbing, bruised lips, then realized that she was shaking. Already, the places that Heath had held her wrists were turning a faint sort of purple.

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

Cat jumped and whirled around. Her brother was the last person she expected to see standing behind her. Henry's thumbs were crooked into his jean pockets. A cynical sneer was on his face as he looked past her and at Heath's retreating silhouette.

"Him. He's disgusting…isn't he? The way that he's always fallen all over himself because of you. "

She scowled at him before turning back around as she folded her arms over her chest, "Leave me alone." She muttered.

"I would watch the way he looked at you when we were kids," her brother went on, "And I could have killed him…." He gave a snort, "There were times I wanted to kill _you_ for letting him put his filthy hands-"

"I said leave me the hell alone, Henry!" she snapped, "Just shut up and leave me alone!"

But Henry only chuckled, "I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed this, Cat- watching you with Linton. I enjoy it because of what it does to him. It's the only thing that'll get under his skin- the only thing that really hurts him…." He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to her ear, as he murmured, "And no one does that better than you!"

She cringed at the words, staying very still as she refused to turn her head again to look at her brother.

"Why have you always hated him so much?" she asked. There was silence from behind her for a long moment, then she heard Henry answer,

"For the same reason that you always break his heart Cat—because I can."

* * *

"And he won't tell you anything about what happened?" Francie asked Ellie, to which she shook her head solemnly, "No. He wouldn't even speak to me when I went to see him last night."

"I wonder if it was bad," Francie murmured, to which Ellie sighed,

"He found out that Cat was engaged to Edgar- none of it could have been all that good."

Francie shook her head musingly, "Cat engaged…can you believe that, Ellie? I mean really- can you believe it?"

"Sometimes I can't." Ellie answered grimly, "Then sometimes…I can. In a strange way…I can."

"I think Edgar really loves her, Ellie."

"Oh yeah, yeah I'm sure he does." Francie stared at her, the realization slowly coming over her face,

"But you don't think she loves him- not really. You think she really loves-" she broke off then, giving a soft sigh. "That's what I always thought too. But you really think she doesn't love Edgar? Not even a little?"

Ellie's manner became brisk and indifferent, "I don't know, Francie. I just…I just don't know." She stood up from the table, brushing her hands off one another. "I um…I have to go to the store for a little while. We need some things for dinner."

"Would you like me to come-"

"Absolutely not!" Ellie harshly admonished her, "You know what the doctor said, Francie! You're not even supposed to be out of bed at this point! Just do yourself and that baby a favor and sit down somewhere!"

Francie smiled sheepishly, "Sorry Ellie." She said, "I just can't help it. I'm not really used to just sitting down somewhere doing nothing."

"Well get used to it! I'm not having anything happen to my little godson just because you've got ants in your pants!"

Francie grinned at her, raising her brow in surprise, "Godson? You're so sure it's going to be a boy?"

Ellie smiled, "I guess my hopes are showin through."

Francie rubbed her belly, murmuring, "Mine too."

"Where's Henry?"

"Out." Francie answered, shortly, the smile slowly fading from her face, "He um…he was in The Heights this morning, then he left to go into town." She shook her head, "I've tried to ask him to just…just leave that boy alone. But he won't listen to me, Ellie."

"He never will." Ellie replied. "You may as well give that up.

"I feel so sorry for him- Heath I mean. I can't help it, I do. What's going to happen to him now? Cat's marrying Edgar and…and he'll just be here."

"How else did you think this was going to end, Francie?" she asked he, and Francie was quiet.

"I'll be back soon." Ellie said, taking her purse off the countertop, "Stay off your feet." A few moments later, the front door shut behind her, then Francie could hear the sound of her car driving away.

She stayed seated at the table for few more moments, biting her lip- a common habit when she was deep in thought. Leaning back in the chair, she rubbed her belly, beginning to hum a tune. The baby inside of her kicked in response and she smiled, "You like that? Hmm? You like music? I think you're gonna want to be a musician when you grow up." She gave a little laugh, becoming a little lost in her imaginings.

Her eyes drifted to the kitchen window, where she could clearly see The Heights. Her expression became wistful. After a few moments passed, Francie rose to her feet. She slipped into the light sweater that was hanging on the back of chair. Then, she went outside through the back door, taking little, waddling steps towards the auto garage. She went inside through the office door, then stood in the doorway that connected the two, looking around.

Heath was at the far side of the garage. His back was to her as he knelt beside a Harley motorcycle, doing some work on the engine side of it. She didn't see Joe anywhere.

Francie stayed where she was for a long moment, watching Heath. She almost looked sad.

He worked quickly, focused. Then, it was like he sensed her presence, and he stopped what he was doing. He turned his head around. She winced.

He'd been punched in the face- hard. A purplish bruise was swelling by his right eye. Francie could tell that it had been given recently- probably that very day. She felt an immense surge of guilty sympathy but managed to give a small, feeble smile at him, "Hi, Heath." She said.

He didn't answer her. She walked into the garage part of The Heights, coming closer to him, "Are you in here alone? Where's Joe?"

"He's sick." Heath answered, his voice empty and toneless.

"Oh. I didn't know. Are you managing okay here by yourself?" he gave a single nod. "That's good- you've…you've always been really good at all of this haven't you?" He didn't answer that either. He was looking at her blankly- like he had no idea what she was doing there.

Francie cast a look to the motorcycle he was working on. She smiled, "I think I recognize this! It used to be Henry's. Dad got it for him. But I thought it was done for when he crashed it the last time. Do you think you'll be able to fix it?"

"Maybe."

She reached where he was kneeling and ran her hand over the handlebars admiringly, "It's been so long since I rode a motorcycle," she mused, "I loved it so much. The feel of the wind against my face, the speeds that Henry would take it to- faster than he should have really. He used to take me all the time- when we first got married. On this one. Just like you and Cat used to-" she paused abruptly, realizing then what she was saying. But when she looked at Heath again, she saw that his expression hadn't changed, as stony as before.

She shifted uncomfortably, tucking her arm underneath her belly, then using her free hand to push back a piece of her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, she had no idea what she was doing there either.

She decided to drop the pretense of politeness and slowly lowered herself down so that she was on Heath's eye level. She looked him square in the face, her eyes going to the bruise at his eye. She reached out as if she was going to touch it, then changed her mind and pulled the hand back, "Henry did that to you." She said, not making it sound like a statement or a question.

Heath didn't reply, but she went on anyway, almost to herself, "He's done all of this to you." Francie shook her head, remorse in her eyes, "Heath…I know nothing I say is going to make any of this right…but…I just want to say that…I'm sorry. I'm- I'm so, _so _sorry."

Heath said nothing, but he looked away from her, his stare empty and blank.

"And it's not just about Henry…I'm sorry about Cat too. I'm _really_ sorry about her. I know you love her very much."

Still, nothing from him.

"But even though she's marrying Edgar…I think- I _know_…I know that she loves you. More than anything." When he remained silent, she gave a small, concerned frown, "Heath? Heath? Are you even listening to me?"

Heath didn't look at her, but she heard him quietly answer, "Yes."

"Then say something. Anything. You- you can talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, tell me what you're feeling."

Heath slowly turned his head to look at her, and Francie suddenly felt the goosebumps rise on her body from the look in his eyes, "Nothing." He whispered back to her, "I  
feel nothing."

They stared into eachother's eyes for what seemed like forever, but then, suddenly Francie felt a sharp pain jab at her abdomen. Her mouth opened into an O-shape and she clasped at her belly with a gasp. A moan escaped from her lips when she felt a gushing liquid running down her thighs. She fell back a little on the floor, both hands clutching at her belly. Reaching underneath her skirt, she touched at her legs. When she looked at her hand, her heart skipped a beat. Her fingertips were covered with a thin, watery red liquid.

Blood and water.

Francie looked up at Heath frantically. He was looking at her very strangely- as if half surprised, but half contemplative. Like he wasn't even seeing her, but something else…

"H-Heath," she gasped, "I'm- I'm bl-bleeding."

She held up her hand helplessly, and he stared at it, not reacting with any shock or fear. He only examined it.

A spasm wracked Francie's body and she groaned in pain, "Oh Goooood…" When she caught her breath, tears were in her eyes and she managed to gasp out, "Heath, you- you have to call nine….nine one one…get an- get an ambulance…" Her breathing became faster and faster, until she was huffing and puffing. The blood began flowing faster now, staining her inner thighs and skirt. Francie managed to open her eyes and saw Heath still kneeling there, watching her with that peculiar look on his face. Her expression became wild and frantic, "What are you doing just standing there?!" she cried, "_Help_ me! Get help! There's- there's something wrong!"

One of Heath's eyebrows rose a little bit, then relaxed again. She watched as he leaned back on his heels a little, then fully sat down on his bottom, sitting Indian style in front of her. He placed his elbows on either one of his thighs and folded his hands together, resting his chin on his them. His jaw was set, and his demeanor calm as he looked at her. Nothing was betrayed in his eyes- nothing was shown in them. Nothing at all.

Francie began to feel a new kind of fear, this one more horrible than the one she felt at seeing the blood. "What's the matter with you?" she whimpered in slow horror, "What are you trying to do?"

Heath said nothing, but now rose to his feet. He looked down at her one more time, before turning around and walking towards one of the doors to the outside. Francie watched him go, calling after him,

"Heath! Heath wait! Don't leave me here! Please! Please just tell me you're going to get help! Don't scare me like this! Heath! _HEATH_!"


	32. Chapter 32: Revenge

**Chapter Thirty Two: Revenge**

Ellie and Henry rushed through the halls of the hospital. Frantic worry was written on both of their faces. Ellie trailed behind Henry a little, panting heavily as she tried to keep up with him; he was nearly running. Her heart was hammering so loud she could hear it in her ears.

The two of them had returned home at almost the same time, surprised to find that Francie was nowhere to be found. They'd gone down to the Heights to look for her- then saw something that was more than enough explanation for her absence.

A pool of darkened blood was on a corner of the garage- and neither Francie or Heath was anywhere to be found.

Ellie was surprised that Henry didn't get them kill them on the drive to the hospital- he must have been pushing a speed of one hundred the entire time. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so scared before. He muttered to himself the entire time, unintelligible words that she didn't need to hear to know that he was frantically concerned for his wife.

And so was she. It was too early for the baby to be born. And Francie was supposed to have been on bed rest. But she took comfort in the fact that the woman had been able to get to Heath so that he could call an ambulance to take her to the hospital- Francie would be just as safe with him as she would be with her…

The two of them nearly rammed into the receptionist desk in the obstetrics ward.

"My w-wife," Henry panted, "Was brought here. She was b-bleeding…"

"What's your wife's name, sir?" the receptionist asked in polite concern, and Ellie answered for him,

"Frances Ernshawl."

"Oh yes, she was just brought in. She's in delivery right now-"

"_Just_?!" Ellie asked shockingly, "What-what do you mean?"

"Where is she? Henry demanded, "Let me in to see her, I have to see her!"

"You're going to need to take a seat in our family waiting room, sir," she gestured to a room adjacent to the desk, "The doctor will come and get you when they're fini-."

"But this is my wife!" he shouted, "She's having our baby, I _have_ to be there!"

"Sir, under these kinds of circumstances we try and keep the family out of the delivery room-"

"Circumstances, what kind of circumstances?" Ellie asked immediately. She felt the beginnings of real, genuine fear creep into her belly.

The receptionist stared at them for a moment, blinking, "Oh," she said in a quiet voice, "Oh, I- I thought you knew…"

"Knew?!" Henry, repeated, "Knew what? _What_? What's happened? She's- she's gonna be alright, isn't she?!"

"Well, they're…they're still in delivery. I'm sure they'll have a report for you when-"

"No!" He suddenly shouted, "No, you're going to tell me what the hell they're doing to my wife! What the _hell_ is going on here?!"

She hesitated for another few moments before stammering, "She- she was bleeding very badly when they brought her in…and they've had to do an emergency delivery…to try and save her and the- the child…"

"Oh my God…" Ellie whispered in horror, while Henry dropped his head in his hands, combing his fingers through his hair and clenching it in handfuls. His eyes were closed tightly as the breath sharply passed through his nostrils.

"Please," the receptionist said, sympathy in her voice, "Please, the waiting room is just over there…"

Ellie nodded numbly, and gently placing her hands on Henry's shoulders, managed to guide him over in the adjacent room. It was still, and empty inside of it- or at least she thought it was. As Henry settled into a chair, still distraught, Ellie looked around her, and was surprised to see Heath sitting in a far corner of the room, looking at them as they came in.

Ellie cast a brief, concerned glance back to Henry. He sat with his elbows poised on his elbows, his hands once again cradling his head. Deep, ragged breaths emerged from his chest. He was so absorbed in his worrying that he didn't even seem to notice her anymore.

Ellie rose to her feet then, walked over to where Heath was sitting. He didn't look at her as she drew nearer. His eyes were fastened upon Henry, staring at him fixedly. She couldn't read the look in them.

She sank down into the chair next to him, and when he still didn't look at her, gently touched his arm, murmuring, "Heath?"

He looked over at her then, his gaze serene and calm. She gave his arm a small squeeze, "I- I'm so grateful that you were there for Francie, and that she was able to get to you so you could help her. Thank you."

"For what?" he asked her.

"For being so good about all of this. I know I don't have to say this to you but-" she paused, "But I'm gonna anyway. I know it may have been hard for someone else to help Francie knowing that she's…that she's Henry's wife and had done the things to them that he's done to you. It may have been really hard for someone else….and I'm just trying to say that I'm glad that you're you and not…someone else. And I wanted to thank you for that."

Heath looked at her blankly for a long moment, then looked away. He gave a short shake of his head, murmuring, "Don't thank me."

"No," she said, shaking her own head, "No, I have to. Not just for me but for- for Henry too. And I have to apologize for him because I know he won't. No matter what happens…you're a kind person for acting like this all this time. You're- you're a son that Will can be proud of…" her eyes were wet and shiny, not just from fear for Francie, but for sympathy of Heath and everything he'd gone through, "And you're a better man than Henry could ever hope to be." She whispered.

Heath shook his head calmly, looking over at Henry again, "No I'm not, Ellie," he replied, "I'm really… _really_ not."

She gave a small, impatient sigh, "What do you mean? What makes you say that?"

He turned his head back to face her, looking as though he were about to say something. But just then, the door to the medical ward opened, and a man in OR scrubs came inside the waiting room. Both Ellie and Henry leapt to their feet and went over to him, while Heath made no movement to leave his seat. Ellie's stomach fell a little when she saw the stains of blood that were on the scrubs.

The man had a weary, grim look in his eyes that he tried to hide with a semi-pleasant, polite smile, holding out his hand to Henry, "Mr Ernshawl? I'm Dr. Rob Grant I was in the delivery room when-"

"My wife," Henry said thickly, not even bothering to take the man's hand "How is my wife? Can I see her?"

"The doctor retracted his hand, "We were able to successfully deliver you and Mrs. Ernshawl's son in an emergency caesarian section."

"Son?" Ellie breathed, "It's a boy? Is- is he alright?"

The doctor gave a semblance of a nod, "Well…his heart rate dropped significantly during delivery and as he is a preemie we do have some concerns about possible health risks. He's being taken to the NICU for observation as we speak where we would like to keep him for at least-"

"What about my wife?" Henry asked, seeming to be completely indifferent to the news of his son, "How is _she_?"

Here, the doctor's expression changed, becoming more grim. Henry noticed and grabbed hold him abruptly, "What? What's the matter? Tell me what's wrong!"

"Mrs. Ernshawl suffered… severe hemorrhaging prior to her admittance. She lost a great deal of blood and we're presently trying to give her an emergency blood transfusion-"

"Wha- _what_?!" Henry was shaking his head blindly, trying to catch his breath, "Blood- blood transfusion?! What the hell are you…why do you have to-"

"Is it really that serious?" Ellie asked quietly, and he waited a moment before answering,

"If you'll let me be honest with you…by the time Mrs. Ernshawl was admitted, she'd already lost more blood than we usually see in even postpartum hemorrhaging cases. And by the time we delivered the baby, she'd lost even more. If she could have been able to get here sooner…" He let his voice trail off before shrugging, "It just may have made her situation far less precarious."

"What about now?" Henry demanded, his voice trembling. Ellie looked at him, and saw that a sheen of sweat had appeared over his brow, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, "What's going to happen to her now?"

"As I've said Mr. Ernshawl, we've begun an emergency blood transfusion to try and bring your wife back into safety."

"And that's going to work? That's going to make her okay?"

"Well we certainly hope so, sir."

"When can we see her? When can we see the baby?" Ellie asked.

"We'll let you in to see both mother and child when they're stable. I'll be back when we have an update." He managed to extract himself from Henry's grasp and leave the room. Ellie stood there for a long moment, still in a measure of shock, while Henry immediately began to pace back and forth, continually running his hands through his hair as he breathed in and out heavily.

She turned to him, beginning to say, "Henry-"

But he made a swift, abrupt gesture with his hand, signaling his wish to be left alone. So she did, going back over to where Heath sat and settling down beside him. Heath was still watching Henry fixedly, and when she noticed this, for a few moments, she merely watched him watch Henry, feeling a bit confused.

There was something in his eyes that she couldn't shake from her attention. She let her gaze sweep down his body. His posture, though not entirely lax, wasn't very tense either. His legs were crossed, one ankle laying across one of his kneecaps, while his hands rested on the arm rests of the chair languidly- as if he were almost….relaxed…..

About half an hour passed like this; Henry pacing back and forth across the floor of the waiting room, muttering to himself under his breath, Heath watching him pace, while Ellie watched both him pace and Heath watching him.

All of a sudden, a thought struck her mind, and she rose up from her seat, murmuring to Heath, "I'll be back." Some minutes later, she was standing at a pay phone in the hospital, dialing the number to Edgar's house in the Grange. It rang several times before the line clicked on and she heard a familiar voice say, "Hello?"

"Hi, Isabella," Ellie said wearily, "It's me, Ellie. Is Cat there by any chance? I- I have to speak to her."

"Sure just one sec."

A few more moments passed before the silence on the other end was broken by Cat's voice, "Hi, Ellie. What's going on?"

"Cat…" Ellie began to speak, but suddenly couldn't find the proper words to say- the way to put it in a semblance of delicacy. So, she didn't try- she came right out and said it.

"Cat, Francie went into premature labor." There came a startled sound of surprise from the other end of the line as she went on, "She was hemorrhaging real bad when Heath found her and called an ambulance. The- the baby's been born too. A boy."

"A boy? Is he healthy? What'd she name him?"

"He's in the NICU for now, and I don't think she has named him yet. They aren't telling us a whole lot."

"Well, do you know how Francie's doing? Is everything alright now?"

Ellie sighed, "I- I don't know, honey…I don't think it is. They had to, to give her a blood transfusion just to save her life, and they're- they're not even sure that it'll be enough."

"Oh my God…" Cat murmured, "I- I can't believe this…how's Henry holding up?"

Ellie sighed again, shaking her head, "It's bad, Cat. Really bad. I don't- I don't know what he's going to do if we lose her."

"I know," she answered, pausing before asking, "Do you want me to come? Just to…be there?"

"It may help," Ellie conceded, "Henry won't speak to me, but maybe he'll take comfort fron you seein' as you're his sister."

"I wouldn't count on it," Cat said drily, "But I'm on my way anyway."

When Ellie returned to the waiting room, she saw that only Heath remained in it, Henry nowhere in sight. "Where is he?" she asked Heath, to which he replied,

"They're letting him see her now." Ellie looked almost hopeful,

"So does this mean that she's doing better?"

"No. But she's awake, and asking to see him."

Ellie sank into her chair, breathing a sigh of relief, "Oh thank God," she murmured, "Thank God…"

A little while later, and the waiting room door opened again, as Cat and Edgar came inside. Cat's eyes immediately met with Heath's and Ellie saw something like a momentary look of panic appear in hers, before they became blank again and looked at her instead.

Ellie stood up from her seat and met Cat halfway, and they embraced each other comfortingly, "Are you gonna be alright?" Cat murmured to her. Ellie sighed sadly, but managed to nod,

"Yeah. Yeah I think so. I just…I'll feel a lot better when I see Francie at home again with the baby." She looked over at Edgar and smiled at him politely, which he returned.

The other entrance door to the waiting room opened, and the doctor that they had seen before came inside. Cat, Edgar and Ellie all gathered round him.

"Is everything going to be alright?" Ellie asked him anxiously, "What's going on?"

He hesitated before continuing, and Cat's eyes met with Ellie's; they both knew that look, and what it meant. "It seems that… Mrs. Ernshawl's body had a negative reaction to the blood transfusion that we initially gave her. It's a risk that we prepare for, but hope against…and, she's still losing quite a bit of blood. Which would not only make her situation very, very precarious, but…also fatal."

Cat stared at him wistfully, "So…you're saying that there's nothing more you can do. That it's over."

"There is always the option of trying to give her another unit of blood and hoping this one works. But-" he paused and sighed heavily.

"You don't think that would work." Ellie finished for him.

He shook his head, "No." he replied quietly. "But…Mr. Ernshawl has been very insistent on continuing with the procedure regardless. And as he is the closest of kin to Mrs. Ernshawl- our hands are rather tied here."

"Is there anything else?" Cat asked him, "Or is that all you came out to tell us?"

"Well, not exactly. Mrs. Ernshawl has come around to consciousness- and is asking to see you," he nodded to Ellie then looked at Cat, "And if you're the Cat that she is mentioning, then she'd like to see you also."

Cat turned to Edgar before she and Ellie followed him, saying, "Do you mind waiting here for me for a few-"

"It's no problem at all," Edgar said understandingly, "I'll be right here if you need me." He leaned forward and gave her a brief kiss on the lips, then stood and watched her and Ellie go through the door, as it closed behind them.

The lively, vibrant woman that Cat knew her sister in law to be, was gone. A stranger had taken Francie's place. She looked so pale and weak in the hospital bed, with all the needles and monitors hooked up to her body. Her usually curly hair was now merely straggly, and damp, hanging around her face in limp hanks. Francie's eyes were half closed as her chest rose and fell up and down in synch with the beeping of the machines.

Henry was sitting beside her, her hand nearly crushed in his as he looked down at her, strain and anxiety written across his face. His free hand stroked her forehead gently. He looked up when Cat and Ellie came inside the room. Cat's eyes met with his briefly- his were red and glassy.

"Hey hon," he said to his wife, his voice trying to sound light and cheery- but failing miserably, "Look who's come to see you!"

Francie's eyelids cracked open slowly and looked, seeing them. Her dry lips turned up in what could have been called a smile. "Heeeeeyyyy…" She breathed. "Therrrre you two arrre…"

Ellie came around to the other side of the bed, bending down to take Francie's other hand, "Oh Francie," she murmured, tears beginning to prick at her eyes. "Honey, what happened?"

Francie gave a small shake of her head, "It's alright…it was…just an accident, Ellie. And…now…we have a son- that's…worth everything…They're telling me he's…gonna be okay…"

Ellie smiled at her encouragingly, "That's wonderful, Francie."

"And she's gonna be alright too," Henry's voice was sharp; brittle, "It'll just be a few more hours- a few more hours so they can observe her, then we can all go home."

His wife slowly shook her head, "I don't…think it'll be that easy, honey…"

But Henry shook his own head stubbornly, "Sure it will. Everything's gonna be just fine. _Just_ fine."

Cat stared at him, the pity showing across her face, "Henry, the doctor said-"

"Hey, what the hell does he know?" Henry cut her off, the beginnings of anger beginning to prick through his voice. It left almost as soon as it had come though, and he looked back at Francie with a confident (but shaky) grin, "He doesn't know you like we do, right babe? We know you just need to be at home, resting with your baby. All this doctor-patient shit is overrated anyway…Hell, they're probably only making you worse! That's why we gotta get you outta here, hon!"

Francie nodded patiently, "Whatever you say, Henry," she answered, "Will you do something for me?"

"You know I will, baby."

"Go… and get yourself some coffee." But Henry was already shaking his head,

"No, no I don't need any of that-"

"Please," she pressed, "You look so tired- and I…I don't want you to get exhausted…just because of me…please…"

Cat stepped forward, "C'mon Henry," she said, "I'll go with you- there's some in a lobby not too far away. I saw it when Edgar and I came in. We can come right back."

Henry hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly, rose to his feet. He pressed a kiss to the back of Francie's hand before he released it, "I'll be right back." He promised, then followed Cat out the door, leaving Ellie alone with Francie.

Ellie continued to stroke Francie's hand, trying not to allow her eyes to flood. "You must be exhausted." She said, "I can't even imagine what you must've gone through…"

"It's alright," Francie murmured back, "I don't mind it much- just as long as.,..my baby's…okay…"

"What have you two decided to call him?" she asked.

"We…haven't…yet…Henry won't let me….he's saying that…we're gonna wait till…till they discharge me…" Her eyes met with Ellie's, and she saw that they were serious and even a little sad,

"Ellie…" she said quietly, "I want to…to ask you… something…"

"You don't have to ask, honey," Ellie replied, "Just tell me what it is."

"I know…that I'm not…not going to be leaving here-"

"Shhh," Ellie shook her head dismissively, trying to fight the emotions that those words evoked from her, "Don't even think about talking like that, Francie."

But Francie only kept on going, "I know I'm not, Ellie. I can… feel it…but I'm not afraid. Not for me…I'm just afraid for Henry…and our son. Will- will you promise me…that you'll make sure they're alright? After I'm gone. Help Henry be a good daddy…and…and tell my baby about me?"

"Francie…you have to try and fight. Try and be str-"

"Promise."

Ellie hesitated, as a single tear fell down her cheek. She dashed it away as she nodded, "Yeah. Yeah I promise…is there anything else?"

Francie's face changed then, her eyes seeming to become sad. "Yeah." She murmured, "I want you to promise that…that you won't blame Him…because it's not his fault…not really…"

Ellie frowned at her confusedly, "What? What are you talking about, honey? Not whose fault?"

Francie looked at her, silent for a moment, before continuing as if she hadn't heard the question, "His heart is just…_so _broken, Ellie…people do…strange things…if they've been…hurt that bad…"

"I-I don't know who you mean. Is it Henry? Is that who you're talking about?"

"He…he just loves her, Ellie…he loves her so much…" Francie looked at the ceiling blindly, giving a sad smile, "Sometimes…I used to think…that that was the only thing…he ever_ let_ himself feel…"

This time, it was Ellie's face that changed. Something like a slow, incredulous dread came into her eyes. Her mouth cracked open a little and she sucked in a breath, "Francie," her voice was rigidly louder as she leaned forward then, squeezing Francie's hand tighter, "Francie what are you trying to say? What do you mean?" Her heartbeat was beginning to quicken. A sick, queasy feeling had entered her stomach.

Francie's eyes looked glassy now, but she was still smiling gently, "I understand," she whispered, "and…I forgive him…"

Ellie shook her head, "Tell me that that's not true," she murmured, her voice trembling, "Please tell me it isn't true, Francie."

But Francie didn't. "Promise me….that you won't blame him…and that… you'll never let…Henry know…or…or C-Cat…"

Ellie's eyes flooded anew with tears, but this time they were tears of horror rather than tears of grief, "Oh God…"

"Please," Francie breathed. Her chest was beginning to move up and down faster, and her voice was thinning into a gasp, "Please promise me Ellie, please!" The machines that she was hooked up to began beeping faster and faster, and now Francie's chest was heaving.

"Francie! _Francie!_" Ellie cried out, the frightened tears already streaming down cheeks. She gasped in horror as Francie's eye lashes fluttered shut. The door to the room opened, and the doctor, flanked by the nurses rushed over to the bed.

"Mrs. Deen," one of the nurses said to her swiftly, "We're going to have to ask you to step outside."

"Well is she going to be alright?" Ellie asked frantically, to which the woman shook her head,

"Ma'am, we're going to try to make it so that she is, now please," she gestured to the door and Ellie nodded, slowly backing away towards it as she watched them rush and hurry about Francie's body, the doctor calling out orders to the nurses as they scrambled about.

Outside, Ellie watched through the glass paned windows, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, a hand pressed over her mouth, as if to try and stifle them inside. She watched as the doctor brought out shock paddles and used them on Francie's chest, barking out the 'clear' orders. She jumped when the electric current ran through Francie's body, making it jerk up in the air. They did it again. And again. And again. The green line on the computer screen beside the bed ran flat, a dull, monotonous beep echoing through the room, the sound escaping to reach out into the hallway. The doctor stepped up on a step ladder and began administering CPR to Francie with his hands, while one of the nurses squeezed oxygen into her mouth. They continued this for a little while- but still no change. The green line stayed flat.

Finally, the doctor slowed down in his pumping on Francie's chest, then finally came to a complete stop. The other nurses had as well, all looking down at Francie's still body somberly.

The doctor turned his head and looked back at Ellie, and when his eyes met hers, she knew that Henry's wife was really gone.

Ellie stared at him, stricken with shock. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She tasted them on her lips.

Cat and Henry entered the doors to the hallway, stopping short when they saw what was happening inside the room.

"Oh God…" Ellie heard Cat murmur, "Oh _God_…"

The coffee cup that was in Henry's hand dropped to the floor, and the brown, hot liquid splashed to the floor. He ignored it though, going through the double doors and into the room.

"Ellie," Cat said weakly, "Ellie, she's not- she can't be-"

"She's gone, Cat." Ellie murmured back, her voice trembling, "She's _gone_." Her face crumbled at the final word and she sucked in a sharp breath to catch the sob.

Cat's own eyes were becoming glassy and she bit her lip hard.

Henry was approaching the bed slowly, and Ellie couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. His posture, the way he walked was enough indication for her of the disbelieving anguish he must have been feeling. The nurses stepped back to allow him to approach the bed, all looking away awkwardly. Henry looked down at Francie, staying very still. He reached out his hand and laid it against her cheek, then drew it away. He leaned down over the bed and clasped Francie's shoulders with his hands. Then, he began shaking her body. Gentle at first, then harder and harder.

Cat turned away then, her hand over her eyes as she sighed heavily, "Oh God, no…" she murmured.

Ellie only looked through the window with continuously brimming eyes, as she watched Henry shake his wife's body over and over again. Through the glass, she could hear the muffled sound of his voice; rough and hoarse as he demanded for her to wake up, to come back. The tears never entered his voice. Not once. He wasn't crying- only calling. Calling for Francie to come back- and when he stopped doing that, he only called her name- over and over and over again...

* * *

Ellie came back into the family waiting room a little while later, her face tear streaked, and her eyes red rimmed. Excepting for Heath and Edgar, it was still empty and quiet. They were seated on opposite ends of the room, Edgar nodding off in his hand, while Heath was sitting wide and very clearly awake in the same spot she had left him in. When she entered the room, his eyes calmly rose to hers and held, not even flinching at the look she gave him.

As she looked at him, Ellie felt her own eyes begin to water up again, and she fought the tears back down. Licking her lips tentatively, she opened her mouth to say something.

Just then however, Edgar stirred awake, lifting his head up from his hand and rubbing his eyes, "Well, Ellie?" he asked, his voice sounding weary, but concerned. "Is everything going to be alright?"

Ellie's eyes were still riveted on Heath, but she shook her head in reply to Edgar's question, "No." she whispered. "No it isn't."

Edgar stared at her, slowly comprehending, "Oh." He murmured quietly, "Oh no. Ellie," he stood to his feet and came over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Ellie I'm….I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. Is- are they both…gone?"

Ellie shook her head, her eyes glassy, "No." she answered, "Just- just her. The baby's…upstairs. In the NICU."

"Jesus…" He murmured. "Is there anything I can-"

"Cat's upstairs with the baby. But Henry's still alone with Francie's…with her body. Would you go and just sit with him for a-"

"Absolutely. " Edgar patted her on the shoulder again, "I'll go."

Ellie finally glanced at him briefly, giving him a failed attempt of a smile, "Thank you, Edgar."

"No problem, Ellie." He went through the door leading to the hospital wing, shutting it behind him, while Ellie's eyes went back to where Heath was sitting in the corner.

They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Heath was sitting so still, but his countenance was as serene as it had been when she had left him there. If he was noticing the way she was looking at him, the way her eyes shot daggers- he wasn't showing it at all.

Ellie didn't realize that her fists were clenched at her sides until she felt her fingernails break the skin of her palms. Her mouth cracked open shakily and she exhaled silently.

"Francie's dead." She finally managed to say, hearing the hoarseness of her own voice.

Heath nodded his head once, "I heard you the first time."

"She's _dead_, Heath." Ellie repeated, her voice raising a little, but also wavering, "She died right in front of me. That's something I'll never forget as long as I live. Ever." She took a step towards him, "Tell me right now- and you had better tell me the truth…did you do it?"

Heath tiltled his head a little, "Do what?"

Ellie took another step, and another, "Did you..." and another, "Did you really just sit there and watch her bleed to death? Did you really just watch her die on purpose?"

Heath's face betrayed nothing, "Why would you think something like that?" he asked calmly.

"Just answer the damn question." Ellie retorted almost instantly, her voice cracking, "_Answer _me Heath- did you let Francie die?"

Heath did look away from her then, gazing straight ahead of him. She saw something like a muscle work in the side of his jaw and one of his eyebrows arched briefly- as if he was in contemplation of his answer. For a long moment, he said nothing, and Ellie thought at first that he was going to ignore her.

But then, she saw his mouth open a little, as his tongue swept over his lips briefly, licking them. Then he spoke, his voice still calm, but quiet,

"It was the only way I could have hurt him."

At that, Ellie's eyes shut, as something mingled between a gasp and sob escaped her lips. She bit them to try and stifle it, but her chest began to heave anyway. The tears rolled down her face. She began weeping again, murmuring

"Oh God…oh my God, Francie…"

She opened her eyes then, and in them was pure anguish, but also fury.

"How could you?" she hissed shakily, "How could you, Heath? Are you ins_ane_?! What's the matter with you?! How could you…how could you _do_ this to Francie?!"

"I just told you," Heath said, "It was the only way I could have hurt him. He didn't love anything like he loved her- not even himself…I didn't have a choice."

His cool, rational tone of voice enraged her, and Ellie rushed forward, shaking him by the shoulder roughly, "Stop it!" she shrieked, "Stop talking like that! Don't you understand?! Someone has died! Because of you! Revenge has nothing to do with what you've-"

"It has everything to do with it, Ellie." He broke, "Absolutely everything."

"She was innocent, Heath. Francie was innocent- she did nothing to you, she never treated you with anything but kindness. How can you justify this to yourself?"

"Because she was everything to him." Heath replied. He was still looking straight ahead of him with that wolfish calm, barely moving at all in his chair, "She was everything he loved…he had dignity in her. When he was in darkness, she found him and saved him. Then he found himself in her…I was going to take all of that away from him, Ellie…because he took it all away from me."

Ellie stared at him, slowly shaking her head in disgust, "Cat." She said thickly, "When all is said and done- that's all this is about- _still_ just about Cat…" Her lips curled up in a sneer, "You're crazy," she muttered, "You're crazy…"

Heath didn't seem affected by her words at all, "Maybe I am." He murmured, "But I never hated Francie, Ellie. I really didn't. If there could have been another way…" His voice trailed off, and he fell silent.

"You destroyed a family tonight, Heath. You've broken a man completely just to get revenge."

Heath shook his head, "No I haven't, Ellie. Henry's not broken. He's wounded- but he's not broken. Not completely…" His eyes narrowed then, "Not yet."

Ellie blinked as another stream of tears ran down her cheeks, "You're not even sorry are you?"

He looked at her then and she shivered at the clarity of his dark green eyes, "No." he replied, "No, I'm not sorry."

"I could call the police," her voice was shaking and she desperately tried to steady it, to try and make it sound threatening, "I could tell them everything I know…I could tell Cat."

He only nodded once, "You could." He agreed, "You could do that, Ellie…but I don't think you will."

She stared at him, at first seeming incredulous at what he said. But the more she looked into his eyes, the more Ellie began to feel that what Heath was saying wasn't so very unlikely.

He had done a terrible thing. An appalling thing to Francie. Ellie still almost couldn't believe it- or didn't want to. She thought she had known Heath- and she'd never thought he would ever be capable of something like this. He'd always been quiet, always a little mysterious- but seemingly kind and decent. He'd seemingly borne Henry's abuses and mistreatment without complaint. Perhaps it had been that complacency that now caused Ellie to be so visibly shaken.

She felt like she didn't even know Heath anymore- that she had never known him at all…

Despite the sentiment she may have had for him previously, what he had done to Francie made all of that vanish. Ellie was filled with a stricken grief that was only surpassed by one thing: anger. And that anger was screaming out for her to tell someone, anyone what she now knew Heath had done.

But yet- looking at Heath- staring into his eyes, Ellie became aware that she was going to do no such thing. At first it seemed outrageous, ludicrous even, but she became more and more sure of it with every passing moment.

She wasn't going to tell. She really wasn't.

Within those few moments of silence as she stared at him, Ellie had already reasoned out her decision. And as much as she hated to admit it, her choice was beginning to make more and more sense to her the more she thought on it.

What would her telling accomplish? What would happen?

There was the guarantee that the police would question Heath- she already knew that he would probably lie. But what proof was there that he was? The only person who could have possibly known that he'd waited so long to call the ambulance was Francie. And Francie was dead.

If she hadn't wanted to believe it herself at first, then Ellie was positive that Cat would refuse to believe it altogether. How was she supposed to make Cat believe that after near to two years of putting up with Henry's countless abuses that Heath- having never shown himself to have a violent bone in his body, or even do so much as thrown a punch at his enemy- would suddenly decide to purposely let his pregnant wife die? How was she supposed to make _any_one believe that?

There was really only one person who Ellie was certain would believe her. Just one. Henry.

She knew that if she were to tell him what had happened, Henry would believe her without question. He wouldn't even need convincing, or any sort of explanation. Just the truth itself.

And when he did find out- he would undoubtedly try to kill Heath. Ellie was certain of that.

And then- what would that accomplish? Henry would be arrested. If he succeeded (which was doubtful in and of itself) he would be going to prison for who knew how long.

That would make his son truly without his parents- practically an orphan. And what, Ellie thought bleakly, what good would that do anyone? The answer was obvious- and now she realized that Heath knew it as well. That that was why he had felt so confident in knowing he could do this and get away with it.

Because he knew that she cared more about the baby than seeing him pay for what he did, Heath had known she wouldn't tell anyone. That she would never tell anyone. Ever.

There were still tears welled up in Ellie's eyes as she looked at Heath. She reached up and wiped at them with her fingertips. "So," she murmured quietly, "You're getting your revenge on Henry after all this time…are you happy now?"

Heath stared at her for a long silence, saying nothing at first. Then, she saw something change in his facial expression- like the smallest of winces. One of his eyebrows arched once. He rose to his feet, sliding his hands into his jean pockets.

"No." his voice was cold and empty, "No, I'm not happy….not yet." And with that, he turned around and walked out of the waiting room without another word.

* * *

Cat looked down into the rectangular phototherapy container, her face stony and set as her eyes roamed over the little body inside of it.

Francie and Henry's son. Their baby. Her nephew.

The doctor in the NICU had already spoken to her. The baby was premature and he had jaundice. But they had very high hopes for him- the doctor was confident that given time, he would be fine.

His body looked so tiny and helpless. Cat reached through the circular hole on the side of the box and used her thumb and index finger to gently touch her nephew's little hand. Her eyes became wet again, and she drew the hand away.

They had buried Francie that morning. The funeral had been quiet and bleak. Ellie had wept so bitterly. Francie's parents and other few relatives had flown in for the funeral the previous night- people that neither Cat, Ellie or even Henry had ever met before. Her and Ellie had tried to be as hospitable to them as they could, but the Lewises didn't seem very interested in family bonding. They all were too overtaken by their grief. They had came for the funeral- and that was all they had come for. Just as quickly and unexpectedly as they had come, as soon as the funeral was over, they all climbed back on their planes, and were gone.

They hadn't even wanted to come and see their daughter and sister's son.

And they weren't the only ones.

It had been three days since Francie had died- three days since she'd given birth to the tiny little boy in the breathing machine…and Henry hadn't gone near him even once.

Cat had never seen her brother like this before. Not even when their parents had died. That had been bad. But this was worse- so much worse than she could have ever imagined.

Henry seemed to have completely detached himself from what had happened. He seemed to have detached himself from everything. He hadn't cried at Francie's bedside when she was dead, he didn't cry at her funeral, and Cat didn't think she'd ever heard him crying in his room.

There seemed to be this tall, impassable wall built around her brother and the rest of the world.

He never seemed to eat. He barely left his bedroom. He never let anyone come inside it. And he refused to go with Cat and Ellie to go and visit his son in the hospital. He didn't even want to talk about him. Henry didn't seem to want to talk about anything. There was only one thing left that he did do that made him seem a little like his old self:

He drank. He drank and drank and drank. But even that was different now. Before Francie died, when Henry got drunk, he became loud, obnoxious and rude. But now was different. Cat knew that Henry was getting drunk- she saw the empty bottles of Jack Daniels in the garbage bin in the kitchen. But unlike before- Henry wasn't being at all like his usual self when he was intoxicated. He was quiet now- almost deathly quiet. Sometimes it was as if he wasn't there- like he had died too.

Henry seemed to have just…given up. Given up on everything. Even himself.

It worried Cat. She knew that people sometimes took death very seriously, but this wasn't normal. It wasn't healthy.

She didn't know what to do. Her and Henry had never been close, and ever since Heath had come to live with them, the wedge between them had only been driven further and further. Cat felt sorry for her brother, but she had never liked him- and she couldn't see herself being able to change that now, even when Francie was dead.

But something had to be done. The doctors had told her that the baby would be able to go home in a day or two. He was breathing on his own now, and getting better every day.

He would be ready to take home, but his father hadn't even acknowledged his existence.

And worse yet- he hadn't even been given a name yet.

Neither Cat nor Ellie had been able to convince Henry to come and see the baby after Francie died. He refused. He hadn't even signed the birth certificate.

For a long time, neither of them knew what to do. Cat had tried to convince Ellie to name the baby, but Ellie refused, saying that she wasn't blood relation to the Ernshawls, and therefore didn't have a right to name him.

That left only her.

Cat was at a loss for what to call her nephew. She felt as uncomfortable and uneasy at doing it as Ellie did. Suppose she chose a name that Francie would have hated? And how was she supposed to know that her sister in law would or wouldn't have liked it?

She'd thought on it for a few days since the birth, and now, as she stood in front of the tiny little body she was fairly certain that she finally had a name.

Francie had adored Princess Diana of Wales. Hailing her as the most beautiful woman in the world, Francie had been in awe of not only Diana's beauty, but her poise, grace, and interest in humanitarian issues. To Francie, she'd been perfect. Ironically enough, Diana's middle name was the same as her full one: Frances. Cat remembered a conversation that they had had once together, long before her sister in law had gotten pregnant. She'd been teasing her about what kind of parents her and Henry would be if she were to get pregnant. Then Francie had begun talking about what names she would name her babies if she had any. A girl would have (naturally) been called Diana. A boy would have either been named William, or Harry- after Diana's two sons.

Cat didn't know which one of the names Francie would have chosen- so she decided to chose them both.

Reaching through the hole again, she took up the baby's hand, closing her fist around it gingerly.

"I'm gonna name you Harry," she softly murmured, "Harry William Ernshawl."

* * *

_R/R :)--Jess_


	33. Chapter 33: Gone

_A/N: This chapter took so much longer than I thought it would to write. It was more challenging too. I would write something, then decide I didn't like it all, write something else, decide I hated it, then start the whole process all over again. And to be honest, I'm still somewhat iffy about the result below. I finally just decided to leave it as is because I felt guilty about making you guys wait such a long time for this update (like I always seem to do unfortunately) So if you're not too keen on the update, it's alright. I don't feel too hot about it either. It'll most likely be edited at some point, and when it is I'll let you know._

_Also, let me just say a few words on another topic. I know that The Heights is not a literal retelling of Wuthering Heights. I knew that it wouldn't be when I first started writing it to be honest. I wouldn't really presume to try and "literally" retell it, because a remake is never going to be as good as the original. It just isn't. The Heights is modernized, and being so, that means that I'm going to have to take some liberties with the characters and the plot. I'm doing my best to try and keep them as faithful as possible to the original, but sometimes, in a modern context, that gets to be pretty difficult to do, and some deviation is going to be necessary. Cat and Heath aren't going to be one hundred percent Cathy and Heathcliff- I'm not that good. Sorry. Just see and take it for what it is...a fanfiction. Thanks to all those who read and review--Jess_

**Chapter Thirty Three: Gone**

Two weeks went by. They brought Harry home from the hospital. Cat went back home to help Ellie with him. Henry remained in his room, hardly coming out except to buy alcohol. On the morning of that fourteenth day, Edgar came by the house to see her, like he did every day.

"How's Harry doing?" he asked her.

The two of them were walking across the field behind The Heights, standing close together as their hands occasionally brushed against one another's.

"Better." Cat answered, but her demeanor was somber and subdued, "He's sleeping longer through the night. Ellie and I can usually just trade off while one gets up with him. Usually all he wants is something to eat- or to just be held."

"Well that's good isn't it?" he said encouragingly, then his expression sobered, "And uh…how about Henry?"

Cat shrugged, "What about him?" she asked drily, "He doesn't ever see Harry. He refuses to see him."

"That can't last forever Catherine-"

"Oh yes it can. He hates Harry, you know. Henry; he can't stand the sight of him."

"That's not-"

"It _is_." She insisted. "It is. I tried to help, to try and make Henry just hold him. It was when we first took him home from the hospital. And do you know what he said? He said that if I didn't get that murdering little _thing _away from him, he was going smash its head against a wall. That was his son, Edgar. He called his son a 'murdering thing.'"

"Jesus…" Edgar murmured, turning out his body a little as he swept a hand thourgh his hair.

"He thinks Harry is responsible for Francie's death- he thinks he killed her. He hates him."

"Catherine, he's just hurting right now. Things'll get better, you'll see."

Cat said nothing at first, only shaking her head. Edgar didn't get it. He didn't know Henry. He didn't know their family. Things never got better for them- only worse.

"Yeah, whatever." She muttered flatly, "Let's just change the subject, alright? I don't want to talk about my family right now."

She looked over at Edgar and saw that his own expression had become somber and withdrawn. He was looking out across the field, his brow furrowed a little,

"I have something to tell you." He said, "It could have come at a better time- when things weren't so hectic for you already…but it happened."

She tried to prepare herself for whatever it was, "What is it? What's the matter?"

Edgar paused in his tracks and placed his hands in his pockets. "I'm leaving here Catherine." He said abruptly, "I'm going back to New York in two days."

Cat stared at him, stunned, "Why?"

"Because I've found another job," he replied, "A good, steady one."

"You mean as a photographer?"

Edgar shook his head, "No. Real estate. My dad's company offered me a position, and I'm taking it."

She frowned, even more surprised, "What? Edgar…you told me you would never go into real estate- especially if it had anything to do with your dad's company-"

"That was a long time ago Catherine." He said swiftly, and she noticed how his entire expression seemed to wince, "I said a lot of things back then that didn't make any sense. This position's as good as I could possibly get anywhere. It pays good money, and has decent hours so that we can still see each other- you remember how messed up my photography schedule could be. I never knew where they would want me to be sometimes."

"But it was what you wanted to do," Cat insisted, "You loved photography. You still do. Why would you give it up for a…corporate desk job?"

Edgar looked at her through expressionless eyes, "It's not about doing what you love all the time Catherine- sometimes you have to grow up."

Cat raised an eyebrow at him, "What are your trying to say? That _I_ need to grow up? That you want me to quit modeling too?"

"No! Of course not!" Edgar said quickly, "This doesn't have anything to do with your career. I just wanted to let you know."

"You tell me two days before you leave?" she asked incredulously, "Edgar why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"Because I knew you would try and talk me out of it," he said rationally, "And wouldn't you have?"

"Yeah, of course I would, but-" she broke off and sighed impatiently, "I just think you need to take some more time to think this through. Try and find out if this is really a smart thing to do. I think we need to talk about-"

"There's nothing to talk about. I've made up my mind Catherine," he cut her off, his voice level, but firm. "I'm going back to New York…and I want you to come back with me."

She glanced up at him sharply, "Ellie needs me here Edgar- you have to see that. What about Henry? You want me to leave Ellie alone with him and Harry when he's like….this?"

Edgar sighed, facing outwards, "Catherine, c'mon…you can't cling to this place forever. You have a life in New York- a life with me. Henry's an adult, he has to take responsibility for himself and his son. Maybe he just needs someone to make him do that."

Cat crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lip to keep from giving Edgar a smart answer. He didn't have any idea what he was talking about- he still didn't get that Henry had never taken any responsibility for himself, not ever. Leaving him here with an infant wasn't going to make him any better, it was going to make him even worse- if that was even possible.

"What about Paris?" Edgar was asking her, "You can't stay here _and_ go there. I thought you told me you were going to tell Otis that it was a done deal."

Cat nodded wearily, rubbing her temples, "I know, I know, I was. Then Ellie called me about Francie, and we had to take care of the funeral arrangements, then we had to bring Harry home and-" she sighed, "It just….slipped my mind."

"It's way too good of an opportunity for you to pass up, Catherine. You know that."

"So everyone keeps reminding me." She muttered, "It just seems wrong."

"Wrong? Why, how could it be?"

"To leave now. When Francie's died and Ellie's here with Henry and Harry. I feel like I should at least try and stay to-"

"Catherine, you and I both know that there's nothing that Ellie can't handle. She wouldn't want you to give up your career just for this."

'This' was her family, Cat thought to herself, 'this' was her nephew, her brother. The way Edgar was talking so flippantly about them bothered her. Like they were some trivial matter that was hardly worth consideration or care. And for some reason, Cat just didn't want to leave. She didn't.

"I'll talk to Otis about it." She said at last, "I promise."

"And you'll come with me to New York?" Edgar almost sounded as if he were urging her and not asking. "You'll come, Catherine?"

She sighed and nodded slowly, feeling what was lesft of her hesitation slip away, "Yeah…yeah I'll go."

He smiled at her, "Good." Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her deeply. Cat submitted into his embrace, kissing him back. Her mind however, was as far away from him as it could get.

* * *

She couldn't sleep later on that night. She lay awake in her old bedroom at home, tossing and turning. She almost wished that she could hear the sound of Harry's feeble, newborn crying fill the air. That would give her some reason to get up. It would give her some excuse to push the thoughts in her mind away, if only temporarily.

She laid out on her back, throwing her arms back over her head onto her pillow. She gave a heavy, solemn sigh as she stared at the ceiling.

She should have known that coming home wouldn't have done her any good. She should have known that nothing ever happened the way she had thought it would, not for her. But all the same…she never could have imagined that things would turn out like this.

Edgar re-proposing, Francie dying, Harry being born, Edgar wanting her to go back with him to New York, Otis and the agency pressuring her to go to Paris….

And Heath. Heath would always be present in her thoughts to run her nerves ragged.

Cat closed her eyes. Heath's piercing, green ones were so clear in her mind.

There was never a time when they weren't. There was never a time when he wasn't. Whatever was happening in her life, whatever it was she may have been thinking about before- somehow, her thoughts always seemed to go back to Heath somehow. Always. Sometimes those thoughts, even her dreams of him were so vivid to Cat that it was like Heath was inside her mind- like…like he was literally apart of it…

She sat up in bed, cradling her head in her hands. The room was becoming stuffy to her. Her breasts felt swollen, and the hairs on her skin were standing up. A wild, restless frustration was gradually coming upon her, and she felt powerless to stop it. She wanted to scream, to run, cry, hit- anything to chase it away.

Throwing back the comforter, Cat swung her legs over the bedside and stood up, swiftly crossing the room to stand at the window. She pressed her face against the cold of the glass, exhaling deeply. Her eyes scanned the view afforded to her outside, going beyond the driveway, further into the woods.

Biting her bottom lip, she paused for a moment, then made a decision. Her hands went down to the sill of the window and lifted it open.

Without another thought, Cat climbed out of the window and onto the roof of the house. Her bare feet were silent and quick as she scurried over to the familiar tree, then the drain pipe and slid down them, just as effortlessly as ever.

Once on the ground, she began walking in the direction of the field behind The Heights. A gentle breeze stirred the air. She could almost swear that she could smell rain coming- but she kept walking anyway.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, that she didn't notice the presence that had been watching her as she climbed out of her window and down from the roof. She didn't notice the person that watched her walk past The Heights and around the back towards the field. And she didn't notice that he began to follow her, careful to stay at a safe distance, but close enough to keep her in full view.

Cat let her arms come up to hug herself, her head bowed down to her chest. She didn't need to see where she was going- she could reach her destination even if she were blind.

Returning home hadn't done anything to help. Cat didn't know how she had been so foolish as to think that it would. What had she expected to accomplish? What had she really thought it would do?

Maybe she'd come back to try and prove something- to herself and everyone else. She'd went to New York to chase after her dreams- to try and become the person she'd always dreamed of being.

And she had attained her dream. And she _had_ changed. She'd gotten what she wanted- what she'd wanted for so long.

Cat rubbed the back of her hand against her nose roughly, sniffing. She hugged herself tighter, as if trying to retreat into a little ball.

If she'd gotten everything she wanted…then why did she feel so empty? Why did she feel so sad?

Why was it so hard for her to look at herself in the mirror every morning?

She tried to tell herself that all of this was just in reaction to Francie's death- that she was just shaken by it.

But even as she tried to convince herself of this…Cat knew very well that that wasn't true. That it was something else. Something she'd been running from for a long time now…

She finally looked up from the ground, seeing her destination just ahead of her. The tall, looming willow tree stood like a lone fortress in the field, seeming as if it were just waiting for her to come.

Cat slowly approached the trunk, her arms dropping to her sides. She looked up and into the wide, enveloping canopy of drooping leaves and branches. But that wasn't all they were to her; leaves and branches. The more she looked at it, the more Cat thought that there was so much more than that under the shelter of this tree.

There was laughter under this tree. There were arguments underneath it. There were dares, playfights, dangerous stunts, confessions and naps. There was safety, happiness, anger, frustration, secrecy.

Cat touched the bark of the tree trunk, allowing her fingers to run across its rough texture.

And life. There was life in this tree. She felt it in her fingertips.

Her mind went back to a memory- long ago. When she'd been sitting in this tree, not alone, but in the arms of another. When he'd done something she'd at first scoffed at, dismissing as ridiculous. But it had felt so real to her then- the same way it felt so real to her now….

Cat reached up above her head, closing her hands around the familiar branch as she lifted one of her legs at the same time. She found the familiar foothold and pushed off of her momentum. Her hands and feet slowly, but surely climbed the tree. With every new length that she reached, she relived an old memory from the past.

And the remembering of those memories made her keep going, higher and higher. She didn't even notice that she was climbing higher than she ever had before as a girl- higher than even she would have dared to go back then.

When she finally stopped, she settled herself down on a branch, straddling it with her legs. She leaned back against the tree's stalk. She could hear a voice inside her head, speaking words she hadn't heard for years….

"_Now…be still, be quiet. In your mind, see every part of the tree, down to the veins in it's leaves…touch them…smell them…taste them. Next see you and me…just us, Cat…just__us. That's it…there you go…"_

Cat gave a quiet sigh. Her fingers dug into the bark beneath her, clinging on tightly.

Almost without her realizing it, her mouth cracked open, and she began to speak, "I feel…" she whispered gently, "I feel…" She felt a stirring, a churning from within her belly. Her eyes, though closed, felt hot and gritty. Her heartbeat began to quicken.

And suddenly Cat felt she wasn't alone. She knew she wasn't.

"I feel you," she whispered aloud again, "I feel _you_…"

Many feet below, the person that she was speaking of was looking up into the tree, his eyes fastened upon her. His voice was as quiet and gentle as hers as he whispered, "Wherever you are…I am too."

Cat shut her eyes. She hadn't been able to hear the words directly in her ears- but she'd heard them inside of her nonetheless. She could hear that voice even when the speaker of it wasn't with her. It really did seem true- what he had said those years ago. He _was_ always with her. Always. Even now- she could feel him near, so near to her….

Cat opened her eyes with a low intake of breath, looking down to the ground at the base of the tree.

No one was there. She let out a sharp sound of disappointment.

She'd felt sure. So sure…

Just then, she jumped, as a boom of thunder reverberated in the air. The atmosphere was cooler now- the way it was before a thunder storm. A bolt of lightning flickered some ways away, against the backdrop of the field. Cat saw it, and knew that she'd have to go back home.

Quickly and stealthily, she began to descend from the tree. Jumping down to the ground, she took one final look around her, as if hoping she hadn't looked hard enough before.

She saw no one.

So she began walking back across the field, her pace brisk and hurried.

Heath walked out from where he'd hidden behind the tree trunk. He stood very still, hands slid into his jean pockets as he watched Cat walk across the field.

"I won't follow you forever," he whispered to her retreating silhouette, "I won't. One day you're going to have to come after _me_…"

Midway through the field to home, Cat shivered.

* * *

She got home before the storm, but the thunder was rolling in even louder than before, and lightning lit up the sky every few seconds.

When she closed her window shut, Cat began to go back towards her bed, but stopped when she heard the familiar, helpless wail that belonged to her nephew from a few doors down the hall.

Cat opened her bedroom door and started to go down the hall, but already saw Ellie coming out of her bedroom and into the one they'd made up for Harry. By the time she came inside, the baby was already in Ellie's arms, as she held him to her breast, shushing him gently.

"Hey you," Cat called to her softly, "Looks like you beat me to him."

Ellie smiled, "I sleep with one eye open, I guess. You can go on back to bed, I've got him."

Cat shook her head, "It's alright. I'll just stay up with you anyway, I can't sleep."

"C'mon then," Ellie said, "You can help me make him a bottle. He didn't have much of an appetite earlier and I think he's starting to finally get hungry."

Downstairs, Cat began getting the formula and bottle ready, while Ellie settled down at the kitchen table with Harry as she comforted him soothingly. More thunder rumbled outside, and Ellie looked towards the kitchen window in the corner that she was sitting in, murmuring, "Sounds like it's going to be a big one."

"How much do you think he'll want?" Cat asked. To which she replied,

"Better make it a big one. He's got an appetite on him, and it all seems to go right through him most of the time anyway."

"Sounds like his father." Cat remarked drily. "Can't eat for himself, can't dress for himself, depends on everyone to take care of him and his problems- just spends all his time crying and expecting everyone to take care of him- he's just as helpless and mature as his own baby!" she began slamming and banging the materials around on the countertop as she got them ready. Ellie stared at her confusingly, finally asking,

"What's wrong, Cat?"

Cat gave a harsh, sardonic snort, "God, Ellie. What's _right_?"

"Why are you acting so angry? Did something happen that you're not telling me?"

Cat paused in what she was doing, bracing her hands against the edge of the counter as she leaned against it, looking down glumly. She said nothing for a long moment, then murmured,"Ellie, Edgar's going back to New York in a few days. He has a new job."

At first there was no reply from her. Cat turned around, and saw that Ellie was looking out the kitchen window fixedly, as if she noticed something outside. Her facical expression had become very hard and stony, which surprised Cat, as she rarely ever saw that look on Ellie's face.

"Ellie?" Cat called to her, "Are you even listening to me?"

Ellie turned her attention back to Cat, nodding hastily "Yeah. Yeah honey, I'm listening."

"Edgar want me to go back to New York with him in a few days," she repeated, " He has a new job. With Mr. Linton's company."

Ellie frowned faintly, "Really? Well…what about his photography?"

"I don't know. From what he's told me, it seems like he just wants to give it up."

"And that bothers you." Ellie stated.

"I don't understand why he's doing this. The whole time I was in New York, Edgar could never stop talking to me about how he always resented the shadow of his father's company- how he could never see himself being like that. He said he couldn't even imagine being in boardroom meetings and conference calls for the rest of his life- that it was too boring to even consider. And now, he just decides to take it up?!"

"Do you think he did it for his father? As apart of a favor?" Ellie asked. Cat shrugged, replying,

"I don't know. Maybe. Both his parents were always on his case to get involved in the company. But Edgar always turned them down. He loved photography. He still does, I know it. He's giving up his dreams just to please his parents! I don't understand him."

Ellie shook her head ruefully, "Well, he's a man sweetheart. That means he's gonna do a lot of things you don't understand. You're going to marry him, so you may as well get used to that." The bottle for Harry was ready now, and Cat brought it to the kitchen table and handed it to Ellie to begin to feed him. She sat down in the chair across from them, looking down at the table,

"Things just seem to be getting more and more complicated," Cat murmured, "When we get back to New York, Edgar's going to be starting this real estate thing…Isabella and Linda haven't stopped talking to me about planning the wedding since the day of the party…I have to get back to work…the agency wants to send me to Europe…" she shook her head, "There's just too many things happening at once. I can't…I can't think straight anymore. It's too much!" She lowered her head down into her hands, combing her hands through her hair and clenching handfuls of it. A weary, fatigued sigh escaped her lips. Ellie frowned at her, the concern showing on her features,

"Cat? Cat what's been the matter with you lately? Why do you seem so unhappy?"

"I don't know…" Cat moaned lowly, "God, Ellie I don't know _what's_ the matter with me…"

"Is it Francie," Ellie asked her, "Is that what's making you depressed?"

Cat shook her head, "I wish that _were_ the reason. But I got over that weeks ago. This is…something else."

She was looking down at her left hand. Her fingers on her right one were twisting and turning the impressive diamond engagement ring on her left ring finger.

Ellie noticed the way she continued to fiddle with the ring and sighed exasperatedly. She shifted Harry to her opposite arm, saying, "Cat. Look at me."

For a few moments, Cat stubbornly kept her eyes upon her ring, but finally raised her eyes to Ellie's.

"Why don't you just say what it is you really have to say. Just tell me the truth."

Cat's eyes broke away from Ellie's roaming over the table in front of her. They found a stray crumb and she used one of her index fingers to push it around as she spoke, "I don't want to go back with Edgar to New York."

Ellie stared at her, "Why not?"

"I just… don't."

"Cat, you have a life in New York. You have a successful career…Edgar's in New York!"

Cat was nodding grimly, still keeping her eyes fastened on the table, "Yeah, yeah Ellie I know all that."

"Then why wouldn't you want to go back? Everything you want is waiting for you there!"

"Well, maybe-" she stopped short, biting her lip and hesitating for a few moments, "Maybe what I want…maybe all of that is wonderful and I do really want it…but- but what if…what if something else is…more wonderful…and I want that too?"

Ellie was quiet then, her face becoming very serious.

"Alright then. Why don't you tell me what it is that you want?"

Cat licked her lips tentatively, "I want to have a successful career," she murmured, "I want to be rich. I want to see the world. I want to have a better life than the one my parents had. I want security."

Ellie frowned, "Well…you have all of that, don't you? You're engaged to Edgar."

Cat bit her lip, her eyes rising to meet Ellie's. "But what if it isn't enough?" her voice rose just above a whisper. "What if I still want more?"

What more do you want?"

"I don't know…love I guess.

"And don't you have that? Don't you think Edgar loves you more than anything? Isn't that enough?"

Cat hesitated again, "…No."

Ellie was frowning in shock, leaning forward a little across the table. "Cat…are you saying… you _don't_ love, Edgar?" Cat shook her head, replying,

"No…I'm not saying that. I _do_ love him. He's a good man. He's given me everything I ever dreamed about. I'm saying…sometimes…that doesn't seem like it's enough."

"Why not?"

"Because…." Her voice with tinged with increasing frustration, "Because sometimes I feel like I don't love him the way I'm supposed to. Like I love him in the wrong way.

"How is it possible to love someone in the 'wrong' way?"

Cat sighed again, looking away at another part of the kitchen. "Do you know…how the seasons change the trees, Ellie? How, sometimes, they're green, and sometimes they're yellow, and sometimes they're orange or red. And sometimes…there's nothing on them at all? That's-" she paused for a moment, then continued, "That's how I love Edgar. Some days are good- I look at him, and I see the man who gave me everything I ever dreamed about- I see the man I always dreamed of being with. And I become apart of his world. But then…there are days I look at him…and I see someone different. Someone I'm nothing like…someone I don't love."

"Cat, even people who are married to one another don't always feel like they're in love. I loved my husband- but there were days when I had to dig deep within myself to try and feel that love." When Cat didn't answer, or seem very convinced, Ellie tried something else, "Look at Francie and your brother. You of all people know that sometimes, far too often, Henry didn't appreciate her enough. But don't you think they loved each other? Look at what's happened to him now that he lost her."

"I do see." She answered quietly, "And it only makes me feel worse."

"Why?"

"Because I never wanted to believe that Henry really loved Francie. Did you know that Ellie? I didn't. After a while passed, after what he did to Heath…I didn't want to believe he had any love inside of him. But when she died, I saw that he did love her. Her dying destroyed him. And all I could think about at the funeral…all I've been able to think about for days now, is was what I would feel if Edgar were to die. Would I be the same way as Henry is? Drowning my sorrows in liquor, cooped up in my room, refusing to come out? Would I become a ghost of the person I am now? I couldn't stop thinking about it. So a little while ago, I went out to the willow tree to try and clear my mind. And when I was there, the answer came to me.." Cat slowly shook her head, then bowed it down low, "Even though maybe I would want to- even if I wanted the pain to be that raw…I know the truth. It wouldn't hurt me as bad as it hurts Henry if I lost Edgar. I would be sad… I would miss him…but I'd be able to go on. And that pain would pass with time. I love Edgar, Ellie…but I could live without him." She looked up at Ellie bleakly, "Does that make me a bad person?"

Ellie was quiet for a long moment, then shook her head, "No." she murmured, "No, that doesn't make you a bad person…but it does create an obstacle to your marrying Edgar. Because marriage is more than just a ring, a dress and a church, Cat. It's more than just a relationship. It's even more than love. When you marry someone, you're telling them- you're telling the entire world, that you _can't_ live without this person. That you love them so much, that you're willing to bind yourself to them forever. Through good times and bad times, no matter what circumstance. When you marry someone, you give yourself to them. And I don't think you want to give yourself to Edgar."

Cat could feel the familiar churning in her stomach return. She swallowed hard, trying to will it away. "No…I don't." she said quietly, "But it doesn't matter. It never did."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm still going to marry him. Obstacle or no obstacle. Love or no love…I'm going to be his wife. I'm going to go back to New York with him. I'm going to Europe to model. And my life will go on. That's the reality of it."

"Just like that, huh?" Ellie asked her, a somber wryness in her voice. Cat gave a single nod,

"Just like that."

"What happened to what you just told me about wanting more than that? About it not being enough to make you happy?"

Cat squared her jaw, giving a bitter smile, "Because…there's a difference between life as you imagine it, and the way life really is. And I'm learning that difference with every day that goes by."

"Does Edgar know about all these _feelings _you've been having, Cat?"

"No."

"Does he know that you don't love him in the same way that he loves you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because Edgar doesn't need to know anything about me any more than he already does." She answered, trying to keep her voice level, "He doesn't need to know what's inside my mind…" her gaze became distant and somber, "He doesn't need to know what's inside my heart…He doesn't need to know that sometimes…sometimes I just can't stop thinking about what would have happened to me if I had never even met him. If I would be really be miserable if he hadn't have been a rich photographer that took my picture that day in the woods. Would I be miserable, Ellie? Or…" she licked her lips tentatively, "Or would I be happier than I am now?"

Ellie shook her head, "Cat, I don't know what you want me to-"

But Cat only kept going, acting as though she hadn't even heard her, "I can't stop thinkingabout what would have happened if Dad had just left everything to Heath. If Heath and I had just had enough money to live on our own- to go to New York together…if things had really just turned out alright. Over and over again I think about how our lives might have been different if he hadn't lied to me and stayed here instead of going to New York. Would I have fallen in love with Edgar if Heath hadn't hurt me like that? Or was I pushed into it? Did I just make myself love him because I wanted to hurt Heath? Did I?"

"Cat…why would you _do _something like that?" Ellie asked, "How _could_ you do something like that?"

Cat shrugged ashamedly, "I don't know. I don't know, Ellie. I just did. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to, to make him suffer for hurting me like that. And I did." She gave a soft, broken laugh, "I did…and now I'm suffering too."

"Sufferring from what?"

"The guilt." Cat replied. She could feel the knot in her stomach twisting ever tighter and tighter. She'd never told another living person what she was telling Ellie now- and it almost seemed as though she were revealing these things, in all their glaring discomfort, to herself for the first time. It was jarring and all so brutally real. " I think about everything Edgar did for me, and how he made me rise so much higher than I ever thought possible. And then… I think about everything that Henry did to Heath- and how he brought him so low…and made him into someone that I would feel ashamed of."

Ellie was very quiet for a long moment. Cat was looking down at the table so she took no notice of the way her eyes went to the open kitchen window again, but they held longer than before this time. Ellie's face was very tentative; cautious. "So…" she said at last, her gaze still not leaving from the window, "Is that why you feel guilty? Is that why you're marrying Edgar? Because you're ashamed of Heath?"

Cat hesitated then, a muscle working in her jaw. "Yes…" she murmured. Ellie let out a long, but low breath from between her lips. Her eyes lingered on the window a few moments longer, then tore away to look back at Cat, who had combed her fingers into her hair again.

"And…no." she continued, "No it isn't that either."

"Then what _is_ it?!"

Cat was quiet for a long moment, then raised her head back up, "Do you know how I said that I love Edgar…but I could still live without him? That even if I lost him, I would still be able to move on? Well…" she slowly shook her head, "I couldn't do that if I lost Heath. The pain of losing him would never leave me- it would never heal. _I_ would never heal. Ellie, if I lost everything I have in my life, everything I've gained- the career, the money, the fame - it would hurt me to lose those things…but I would still be able to go on. Do you understand? I would still be here. But if I woke up one day and Heath was gone…if I couldn't feel him existing somewhere, even if it wasn't with me…then I wouldn't _be _anymore. I said sometimes I look at Edgar and I see someone I don't love- it's true. There are days I don't love him at all- I hate him. I hate him for changing me into a person that can't be with Heath anymore- a person that's ashamed of what Heath is or isn't. I hate him for giving me a life that Heath can't share. But then I hate myself for wanting to be that person and wanting that life for so long that I would be willing to betray the person that _gives_ me life."

Ellie stared at her, stunned. "Cat…" she began quietly, "Have you ever told Heath that you feel this way about him?"

Cat shook her head, "No."

"Why not?"

"Maybe I was afraid to. It was a long time before I admitted it to myself. If I actually did, then everything I did in New York would have seemed pretty damn useless, then wouldn't it? All the dreams I had for all those years would have seemed stupid. And I wasn't prepared for that then. I wasn't prepared to be so… wrong. To admit that I had messed things up for Heath and I so badly." She was staring down at her hands blindly. Her eyes felt hot and gritty, and the egg was rising in her throat, "So I… I told myself I liked wearing high heels and tight jeans. I told myself I liked all of the new people I was surrounded by. I told myself I loved Edgar. I told myself marrying him would make me happier, because I'd be more famous and more rich. I must have told myself that so many times…" she blinked repeatedly, squinting a little to try and ease the building pressure behind her eyes, "…That one day I just believed it. I still can sometimes. Even when deep in my mind…deep in my heart…I'm convinced I'm wrong."

"Do you think Heath knows how you feel, Cat?"

Cat nodded, murmuring, "I think so."

"How would he know if you've never told him?"

"Because Heath isn't like Edgar. He knows me. He's always known what's in my mind…he's always known what's in my heart." Her eyes were becoming hotter and grittier, as the egg rose higher in her throat. Her voice was no more than a whisper now, "Heath-Heath's mind_ is_ my mind…his heart _is_ my heart."

Ellie's face seemed wistful, and even a little grim as she looked at her, "You really do love him, don't you?" she asked quietly. Cat waited a moment before replying,

"I've never seen Heath as my brother. I've never seen him as my stepbrother, or my boyfriend…he's never even been just my friend. Ellie, from the very beginning… Heath's been…He's been _me_….and I've always been him. I don't love Heath…I _am_ Heath!" Just as the last words escaped her lips, Cat could feel the moisture that had been building up behind her eyes finally escape and two tears rolled down her cheeks. She immediately raised her hands up to wipe them away, trying to swallow the cries that were rising up in her throat.

Just then, the thunder that had been rumbling outside for the duration of the conversation finally reached its peak and there now came a tremendous clap that reverberated throughout the house. It made Ellie and Cat both jump. The lights flickered off, blanketing them in darkness for a few moments, before they came back on again. A humming sound now joined the noise of the thunderstorm.

"The generator's come on," Ellie muttered. At the crashing sound of the thunder, Harry had begun to cry and she tried to soothe him.

Cat rose up from her chair and went over to the window by the door, just beside where Ellie was sitting. She looked outside into the darkness bleakly, watching the rain come down in thick, heavy torrents. Suddenly, she heard a new sound- something like the sound of a revving engine- a motorcycle. She frowned faintly,

"Ellie…is that noise the generator?" she asked.

"What else could it be, hon?" Cat shook her head,

"No, listen. You hear that? It doesn't sound like a machine. It sounds like a…an engine. Is that a motorcycle…"

"Cat, I really just think it's the gener-"

"I thought the Harley broke down a long time ago. Did Henry ever get rid of it?" Cat asked.

"No, he still kept it." Ellie said, before resuming in her soothing shushing and cooing to Harry, who was only crying louder.

"Is Joe here?"

"No, Cat. He's still sick. It's probably just Heath. He fixed it a few days ago, I think."

"Why would he be trying to go anywhere in the middle of a storm?"

"I don't know."

Does Henry even let him leave The Heights?"

"I don't _know_, Cat! I don't know and I don't care what Heath does in his freetime. What difference would he make to me?!" There was a sudden sharpness that entered her voice- it almost sounded hostile. Cat noticed it, and looked at her for a long moment. Ellie, realizing her mistake, tried to reavert her attention to Harry, avoiding Cat's eyes.

"What happened?" Cat asked. Ellie shook her head, trying to make her voice sound normal again,

"Nothing, nothing's happ-"

"What are you not telling me?" Cat cut her off, "You're keeping something from me, I can see it in your eyes. What's the matter? Is it about Heath?"

Ellie was still shaking her head dismissively. She stood to her feet, "Cat I don't have time for this, I have to take care of this baby-" she had begun to leave, but Cat only grabbed hold of her one of her arms, refusing to let go.

"No!" she shouted over the noise of the storm and Harry's wails, "You tell me, Ellie. _Tell me_!"

"He was here!" Ellie shouted back at her, "Heath was here, alright? He was standing right outside that window," she nodded to the kitchen window by the door, "And he was listening to every word you said, but he left. He left before you could finish."

Cat stared at her blankly, "What? He was here- why didn't you tell me?"

"How was I supposed to know you would start spilling your guts like that?!" Ellie demanded tersely, "Besides, he didn't want you to know he was there, I could tell."

"I don't care what he may have wanted, you still should have-" Cat suddenly stopped short, the angry expression leaving her face. Her ears drowned out every other sound, save for the revving of that motorcycle engine outside. A thought, an idea entered her head as to why Heath would have fixed the Harley, why he would be starting it now in the middle of the storm. That thought made her heart skip a beat, and a hollow, empty feeling enter her stomach. Her eyes widened a little and she sucked in a small breath, "Ellie, how much did he hear before he left?" she asked frantically, "_Tell me_! How much did he hear?!"

Ellie hesitated for a few seconds, then answered, "He left right after you said that you were marrying Edgar because you were ashamed of him."

Something inside of Cat snapped in that instant.

The sound of the motorcycle, became a deafening din in her ears- all else seemed far away and distant. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. At the same time, her mind went back to a memory, not too distant. Where had she been? What had been happening? She couldn't make it out- it seemed like shadows, save for the sound of a voice that joined the sound of the motorcycle in her ear,

"_Cat, the only thing that's more scary to me than losing you- is having to live knowing I lost you because I wasn't good enough for you. I can't do that. I can't watch you with someone else- watching him give you the things I can't….be all the things to you I can't be. I __can't."_

The motorcycle. The revving motorcycle outside. Suddenly that was all Cat could think of- that, and a pair of wolfish, green eyes.

"Oh my _God_-" a sharp, choked gasp escaped her throat and without another word, Cat had flung open the kitchen door and rushed outside into the pouring rain. The cries were already surfacing in her throat. From behind her, she could hear Ellie's voice shouting after her to come back, but she paid it no mind.

"Heath!" she screamed. Her cries were loud, but they were largely drowned out by the sound of the thunder and rain- so she only screamed louder, "Heath!"

She was still in her bare feet, but she didn't care, racing over to The Heights. From inside the garage, she could hear the revving of the engine stop, as the ignition finally caught. And sure enough, in a few seconds, Henry's Harley motorcycle came speeding out of The Heights, Heath at the seat. Cat had just reached the garage, but he drove the bike right past her and steered it down the gravel driveway, all the time making it pick up speed.

Cat stared after it in horror, suddenly feeling as though she were going to be sick. "No…" she murmured softly, "No…" She started to run, but suddenly felt a hand close around her arm. Ellie stood beside her, without Harry. Her face was unusually firm and unyielding,

"Let him go." She said simply, "Let him go, Cat."

"But Cat instantly began frantically fighting against her. "No!" she screamed. By now the tears were mingling with the rainwater on her cheeks, "He's getting away, we have to stop him! We have to bring him back!" She was surprised at how strong Ellie was- she seemed absolutely determined not to let her go, now holding onto both of Cat's arms. But Cat was fighting like a tigress, "Let_ go_ of me!" she demanded, "I'm not going to lose him dammit!"

She shoved Ellie away from her roughly, breaking free of her grip. Within seconds, she was running as fast as she could down the low hill of the driveway, following the bright red lights of the Harley. The stones on the ground cut into her feet, but she only kept running, bellowing at the top of her lungs amidst the sound of the storm and engine,

"Heath! Heath, come back! I'm sorry! Heath! _Heath_!" she screeched.

Cat kept running and running until she was deep into the woods. The lights of the bike got further and further away from her, but she kept on, letting the branches and stones slap and pound against her in any which way.

Suddenly her foot caught on a stray root, tripping her hard. With a sharp cry, she fell forward and landed flat on her face.

As she lay there in the mud, all her energy suddenly feeling utterly spent, Cat now began to weep violently, thrashing her limbs back and forth in the mush as she struck at it with her fists.

"No," she moaned over and over again, "Noooooo…"

She felt arms close around her shoulders and only continued to weep as Ellie pulled her up and wrapped a blanket around her. But Cat rejected it. She threw the blanket to the ground and sprayed a shower of spit into Ellie's face. She began pounding at the older woman with her fists, "Why didn't you say something?!" she demanded hysterically, "You bitch! You _bitch!_ You should have said something! You should have told me he was there!"

"Stop it!" Ellie was yelling, "Just stop!" she reached out and slapped Cat across the cheek hard. The slap took the last fight out of her, and Cat's face crumbled for the last time. She slumped forward, her head falling against Ellie's shoulder as she succumbed to the gut wrenching, uncontrollable sobs rising up inside of her. Ellie sighed heavily, finally putting her arms around her and stroking Cat's back in grim comfort. She was holding onto Ellie with all her might, but her mind was far away, with a boy on a motorcycle that was going farther and farther away from her with every passing moment.

"Heath..." Cat sobbed. The name was piercing her to the core, but she only kept repeating it again and again, "Heeeeeeath…"


	34. Chapter 34: An Empty Void

_A/N: I don't own Wuthering Heights, or any of the characters in it. Neither do I own the lyrics to You Are My Sunshine. Thanks to all those who read and review--Jess._

**Chapter Thirty Four: An Empty Void**

She stayed on the porch of the house for the rest of the night, sitting in one of the rocking chairs that overlooked the driveway and The Heights.

Ellie tried to make her come inside, as she was already drenched with the rain, but Cat refused flat out. She was going to stay exactly where she was and watch the road; alone.

As the storm went on, she sat stone faced and absolutely still, huddled in a blanket that Ellie had given her, keeping her eyes riveted to the gravel driveway.

He would come back, she told herself over and over again- as if it were a mantra. He would come back. He would come back. He would come back.

He just _had_ to.

A quiet, clear, dewey dawn arose on the horizon, and she still hadn't moved from her spot. The enormous egg in her throat hadn't left her, neither had the irrepressible urge to weep. She felt a dull, hollow ache from inside of her that had never been there before. Not even the deaths of her parents had left Cat so emotionally crippled. Heath had been there to comfort her in both of those awful times.

But Heath was gone now- and nothing Ellie did or said could bring her an ounce of comfort.

She kept going back to the night before, remembering everything that she had said to Ellie.

Why did Heath have to leave right after she'd said she was ashamed of him? Why then, why at that very moment? Why couldn't he have stayed to hear the rest? Why?

A picture of his face appeared in her mind, and Cat bit her lip to hold back the tears. A spot of blood appeared on it- she licked it away.

The sunlight shone a bright, deep orange mingled with reddish hues. Cat allowed the rays to warm her face, tucking her chin into the blanket as she tightly clutched the ends with her fists.

She felt so cold.

Suddenly she heard the approach of an engine in the distance. It wasn't a motorcycle engine though, so she stayed put in the chair.

Before long, she saw Edgar's Mercedes coming up the long driveway. He stopped it just in front of the porch steps and climbed out, clad in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. Cat smiled with faint cynicism. It was the first time she'd seen him dressed in either.

Edgar mounted the stairs slowly, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. His gaze searched her own, and Cat knew that he knew what had happened. He was trying to figure out what she felt. The truth was that even she wasn't completely sure. She didn't feel sure of anything anymore.

Edgar stoopped down on his knees so that their heads were on level with each other, "Hi."

"Hi." Her voice was flat and dull.

"Ellie phoned me this morning…She told me what happened."

"Did she?" Cat asked. She was certain that Ellie didn't tell Edgar everything that had happened last night, particularly the details of Cat's confession. "And?"

"Are you alright Catherine?" he asked her concernedly, "I know how devastated you must be right now."

Cat didn't say anything to that. All she did was look straight ahead down the road.

"Is there anything I can do?" Edgar asked, reaching out and smoothing back some of her damp hair, "You look terrible."

"You can leave." Cat said honestly. Edgar's face flinched, indicating the surprised hurt that he felt. If Cat noticed, she have no sign of it. This was one moment where she couldn't give a damn how Edgar felt about anything.

Nonetheless, Edgar took a hold of her hand and squeezed it comfortingly, "Let me take you back to the Grange so you can get some sleep, Catherine-"

"Leave."

"Just please, come inside and at least change clothes so you don't catch a-"

"Leave."

"At least let me sit here with you so you don't have to-"

"I said _leave_, Edgar!" she suddenly shrieked at him, "Just get out of here! Go!" The tears had resurfaced in her eyes, but she wasn't going to let them fall.

Edgar stared at her, stunned by the sudden outburst. Finally though, he stood to his feet and backed away, down the steps of the porch and to his Mercedes. Cat watched him drive away through eyes blurred with tears. Not until he was out of sight did she finally let them fall down her cheeks.

* * *

"She's been like this for two whole weeks." Ellie and Edgar stood together at the edge of the field behind The Heights. They watched Cat's retreating silhouette on the horizon as she walked into the forest. Concerned, grim expressions were on both of their faces.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Edgar." Ellie was saying, "I can't get her to eat anything. She won't talk to me. Not even about Heath. She says she just wants to be left alone. I can hear her crying at night in her bedroom- sometimes it goes for hours."

Edgar's face was pinched and saddened, "Does she still watch the road?"

Ellie shook her head, "No. Not anymore. That stopped maybe two weeks ago. I think…I think that's why she's acting like this now. I think it's finally dawning on her that," she paused, and added quietly, "That he isn't coming back here."

"I've talked to some of the people in town." Edgar said, "They haven't seen any sign of him."

"Cat called the police after the third day to report him missing. She goes there every day to see if they've found any trace of where he went." Ellie sighed, "They can't even find a trace of where he might have gone. At first she wouldn't believe it. She would get so impatient with them- she'd say they weren't looking hard enough. Now she just goes to ask. But I think she's starting to accept that they aren't going to find him either. So now, she does this," she nodded at the horizon, "She goes to the places they spent the most time together. Like she's expecting to find him there waiting for her one day."

"This can't go on, Ellie." Edgar said, "It's going to have to stop. I know they were close to each other, but she's still got a life to live. She can't drop everything she's gained just because he decided to skip out."

"Don't you think I'm on your side with this? I hate seeing her like this just as much as you do. But I know her, Edgar. I known her a longer time than you have and I'm telling you- Cat isn't going to snap out of this until Cat is ready to."

Edgar sighed frustratingly, "What am I supposed to do?" he muttered, almost to himself, "She won't answer my calls. She won't talk to me. She's shutting me out and I don't know what to _do_!"

Ellie looked over at him sympathetically, "I'm sorry. Whenever she was like this before, I couldn't ever get to her either. Only people she would ever open up to were her daddy and-" she stopped short, but Edgar already knew. His jaw tightened a little and he grimaced,

"Heath."

"Heath." Ellie repeated quietly. "You just have to be patient, Edgar. That's the only thing any of us can do. Just leave her alone for now."

"'Leave her alone.'" Edgar repeated, his voice almost sounding bitter, "Is that what I'm supposed to do, Ellie? Just 'leave her alone' and hope she'll finally let me in?" He looked at her, his face shadowed and sad, "Is that what He would have done if he saw her like this?"

"No," Ellie said after a long pause, "No, he…he never left her alone. Ever."

"Then neither will I. Goodbye, Ellie." He turned around and walked back into the house, leaving her alone. Ellie waited until she could hear his car start, then drive away before she murmured,

"But you're not Him, Edgar. You're not- and you never will be…."

* * *

Ellie opened the door to the office part of The Heights. She kept the lights turned out, and crossed over to the door that connected to the garage. The lights were turned out there as well, but she went inside of it anyway. The light from the back of the house was shining brightly enough to cast a clear enough ray through the windows of the garage. Her eyes searched the near darkness until they fell on the corner furthest from her.

She could make out the shape of the old, ratty army cot that Heath slept on. A body was lying in a fetal position upon the pitiful mattress, facing the wall.

Ellie sighed, giving a small shake of her head. "Cat." There was no reply or reaction from the body on the mattress. Ellie began to walk closer to the cot, crossing her arms over her chest, "Cat." She repeated. Still no reply. Cat stayed motionless and unresponsive as she approached.

Ellie reached out a hand and laid it on her shoulder, "Cat. Are you listening to me?"

Nothing.

"Cat…you can't ignore me forever. You can't ignore the world forever. When are you going to snap out of this?"

Still, nothing.

"Won't you at least talk to me, Cat? Just _talk_ to me?" She sighed frustratingly, and started to turn to go.

"Do you know how many times he told me he loved me?"

Ellie paused turning back around. She sat down on the edge of the cot, touching Cat's shoulder, "What?"

Cat's eyes were open, staring at the wall. Her breathing was slow, but heavy, as her chest rose and fell. "Do you know how many times he told me that, Ellie?" she asked quietly, then shook her head, "Neither do I. He must have told me so many times, I just…I just lost track."

"Cat. Come back into the house. You haven't eaten anything for-"

"Do you know how many times I told him that I loved him?" Her voice shook then, and she whispered, "Not once." Cat shifted then, turning around so that she could look at her, "Do you think he still knew that I did? Even if I never said it?"

"Cat, will you please just-"

"_Do_ you?!"

"I don't know!" Ellie said impatiently, "I don't know if he did or not!"

Cat's eyes were glassy, and filling with more and more tears, "I did." She whispered, "I did love him. I do. Heath, do you hear me? I do love you. I love you! I love…"the last word ended in a low wail and her voice drifted off into a sob. Raising a hand to her face, she began to cry bitterly.

Without a word, Ellie reached out and drew Cat to her chest, wrapping her arms around her. Cat returned the embrace, hanging onto Ellie's shirt as she wept.

"Why won't he come _back_?" she gasped through her tears, "I d-don't understand…wh-why he won't c-c-come baaaaack!"

"Oh, Cat…" Ellie murmured sympathetically.

"I thought he'd always be here…that's why I pushed him away…I just thought he'd always be here…"

"Shhhhh…"

"Ellie, say everything's going to be alright. Say he's okay."

"Everything's going to be alright- Heath's just fine."

"Say he'll come back. Say he'll forgive me and come back soon."

"He's going to forgive you- and when he does, he'll come home." She felt Cat give a heavy sigh, as her cries slowly began to quiet. She was silent for a long moment, then to Ellie's surprise, began to hum gently. A few minutes later, she began to softly sing the words

"In all my dreams dear, you seem to leave me…when I awake my poor heart pains…so when you c-come back and make me happy…I'll forgive you dear, I'll…take all the blame…"

Ellie was silent, only continuing to hold her. The words she had just spoken to Cat had sounded like lies as they rolled off her tongue. She didn't know if they were or not- but to say that Heath was alright, wherever he was- that he would soon forgive Cat and return home- that would have felt even worse for her to say. Worse, because she wasn't sure at all that any of it would be true.

* * *

Cat was sitting at her bedroom window one morning when Edgar came to see her. He knocked on the door, and she called out for him to come in.

For a moment, he just hung in the doorway, looking across the room at her uncertainly. Cat turned her head to look at him, her face a mask of what seemed to be an indifferent kind of calm.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I uh," he began, "I didn't think you'd want to see me. You've been so distant for the past few weeks, I thought you'd just…keep shutting me out."

"I know." Cat said quietly, "I have shut you out lately. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."

He seemed relieved then, coming closer to her, "Catherine, it's alright. I know you're hurt. I just wanted to help you get through it. That's all I wanted to do."

"I know that, Edgar."

"I love you so much, I- I can't stand to see you like this. I get so worried about you sometimes."

"I know that, Edgar."

"Catherine…" he crouched down before her, reaching out to touch her hair, her cheek, "You still love me, don't you? All of this…it hasn't changed that…has it?"

Cat's face faltered a little, as she titled her head sideways, "Oh Edgar…" she murmured, "Of course not. Of course I still love you. Why would you think even think something like that?"

"I guess I just got a little paranoid." He replied, "What with Heath leaving and you reacting like that- it just…caught me off guard." He paused again, before continuing, "Catherine…I've put off going back to New York for as long as I can. I…I absolutely have to go back tomorrow. And I want you to come with me."

Cat inhaled deeply, drawing her hands out of his, "Edgar, no. I can't do that. I'm sorry. I just can't."

"Catherine, please. You've been letting Heath's leaving keep you like this for nearly a month. It's like you've buried yourself here. Otis called me yesterday, he says you haven't been picking up your phone for anyone- not him, not the agency. You can't just forget your entire career for-"

"I haven't forgotten it-" she began.

"Then why won't you come back with me? What's keeping you here?" she didn't answer, and he continued, "I know it's hard. But you're going to have to come to accept the possibility that Heath just isn't going to-"

"Don't say it." Cat broke in sharply. "Don't you say that, Edgar."

"Catherine, it's been a month. A _month._ You've been to the police, they've been looking for him everywhere- this town, the neighboring town, the neighboring city-"

"Then maybe he's just not in this town or the neighboring town or the neighboring city!" she snapped, "Maybe he's farther away, maybe he's in the next state!"

"Well if he was willing to go that far and be gone for so long, then maybe you should just let him stay there!" Edgar was starting to raise his voice- something he never did with her. "Catherine, did it ever occur to you that maybe he doesn't want you to find him? That maybe he just wanted to run away?"

Cat was shaking her head, staring out the window, "No," she muttered, "No, he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't want to do that…"

"How do you know that? Look at the life he had here, Catherine! The conditions your brother had him living in! I'm surprised he stayed as long as he did! How do you know he wouldn't try to escape all of that?"

"Because I know him! I know him, Edgar! I-" she stopped short, just barely catching herself before she said it, _I loved him._ _I knew him better than anyone in the world. He left because of what he heard me say. He loved me too much to want to abandon me forever. He would never do that…_

"I know him." She repeated quietly, "It wasn't that. It wasn't. Wherever he is…I have to find him. I have to wait for him. I have to, Edgar." She couldn't look at Edgar- she couldn't see the crestfallen, wounded expression on his face. The feelings that he no doubt had were fully justified. She knew she was being unfair, even unfaithful in a sense to him in her stubbornness. But she didn't care about any of that. She didn't feel guilty for it either. She couldn't afford to.

They were both quiet for a long moment, then finally, Edgar cleared his throat,

"Alright." He said quietly, "If that's the way you really feel about it. I'll…I'll help you."

Cat turned her head back to look at him, frowning in confusion, "What?"

"I'll help you look for him. There's a…family friend we have in New York. He's a private investigator. He searches for missing people all the time. If I hire him…will you come back to New York with me tomorrow?"

Cat stared at him, the surprise showing on her face, "You'd do that for me?" she asked. Edgar nodded,

"Yes, I would. I told you before…there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Catherine. Nothing."

Catherine took up one of his hands. They were cool and smooth, so different from Heath's, whose hands had been warm and rough. She rubbed Edgar's knuckles with her thumb, her face melting gratefully,

"Thank you…" she whispered, "Thank you so much…" she nodded, "Okay. I'll go back with you…"

* * *

"Alright, let's get right down to business." The private investigator that Edgar had hired was named Louis Kane. He was middle aged, with peppery hair and beard, grey eyes, and a thick, barrel- like kind of body. He seemed brisk, orderly and serious.

"When someone goes missing, there's a very orderly process we go through to find them. The more information you can give me about your…" he paused for a moment, a bushy brow rising, "What did you say he was again? Your brother?"

Cat and Edgar were seated in front of Kane's large mahogany desk together. At his question, Cat shot a nervous glance at Edgar, then at her hands in her lap, "Yeah-no, well…not- not exactly…my dad brought him home to stay with us, but he never went through with anything official like adoption or anything. He was just…with us."

Kane stared at her, then Edgar for a moment, nodding, "I see…" he paused for a few moments, "Well, like I was saying Miss Ernshawl, the more information you can give me about…Heath, the better." He went back around behind his desk and sat down, taking up a pen and poising it over a blank notepad, "Now, you say your dad brought him home to stay with your family- what was his last name before he started living with you?"

Cat was silent for a little while, then shook her head, "I don't know." she replied. Kane frowned a little,

"You don't know? You mean he never told you?"

"No. We never asked him what his real last name was. We always just called him Heath. Then he just used our last name for everything."

"When's his birthday?"

Cat was able to answer that one, "October thirtieth. He's twenty one, about to turn twenty two this year."

"You wouldn't happen to know his social security number, would you?"

She shook her head helpessly. "No."

"Does he have any credit cards, ATM cards, bank or credit union memberships?"

"No, nothing like that." Will had in fact provided both Cat and Heath with debit cards while he was still alive, but Henry had gotten rid of Heath's as soon as he died.

"Did he have any kind of steady, official employment?"

"No. The only place he ever worked was my dad's auto repair shop- and he was never paid for that."

"Do you have any idea of where he may have gone? His home before he came to live with you? A favorite city?"

She shook her head again, and she saw him give a silent little sigh through his nostrils.

"Give me the best physical description of Heath that you can. Make sure to include any distinctive scars, moles or birthmarks."

"He's about…6'4. Kind of thin. His eyes are green- very green and deep. His nose is straight, pointed at the tip. He has dark brown hair- it almost looks black sometimes. Thick eyebrows. There's a faded scar on his forehead here," she touched her own face, "But his hair hides it most of the time."

"Do you have any reason to believe that he would change his appearance, Miss Ernshawl?"

The question caught her off guard, and she struggled to find an answer,

"I…I don't know. I never thought of something like that. Do…do you think he would?"

"In my past experience, I've encountered some missing persons that do if they don't wish anyone to find them."

"No," Cat saw, swiftly shaking her head, "No, that's not the case here. He wants me to- he wants _us_ to find him."

Edgar had been sitting beside her rather stiffly up til now, when he broke in, his voice cautious, "Catherine, maybe he doesn't. After all you don't know that for-"

"Yes I do!" she snapped, her voice raising a little. She caught herself, conscious of Kane's presence in the room, and lowered her voice more moderately, "I know, Edgar. Heath wants to be found. I know he does."

"So in other words," the private detective said, "You think your friend ran away knowing you would come looking for him?"

"Yes. Yes, I know he did."

"Miss Ernshawl the only reason he would do something like that is for attention. Does Heath have a reason to want to get your attention?"

Cat was quiet then, looking down at the floor while she chewed the inside of her lip.

"Does he have any mental issues I should know about?"

She shook her head, "No. No, I don't think so."

"Are you sure? Sometimes these things can be difficult to…admit. Particularly when the missing person is a close friend. Did Heath seem a little…disoriented the last time you spoke to him? Did you ever think he may have had suicidal thoughts-"

"No!" she burst in abruptly, "That's nothing like him, I'm telling you! He's not crazy, disturbed or whatever the hell it is you're implying! This has nothing to do with any like that!" Edgar placed a hand on her wrist, making a small shushing noise as he tried to soothe her. Kane raised his hands up a little, keeping his voice level,

"Alright, alright, let's just try and stay calm here, alright? There's no need to get upset."

Cat sighed heavily, trying to maintain her composure and hold her emotions at bay, "I'm sorry." She murmured finally, "I shouldn't have yelled. It's just that…I know him. I really do. And he didn't leave because of anything to do with his mind. Heath…he's not like that."

Kane nodded once, then asked, "Okay. I believe you, Miss Ernshawl. But if it doesn't have anything to do with that, then you're going to need to help me out here, because I don't think I'm getting all the facts. Just try and be honest with me. To your own knowledge, why did Heath run away?"

Cat was silent again, staring into space bleakly. She didn't notice the looks that Kane and Edgar exchanged with one another,

"Miss Ernshawl," the private detective asked, "Was there ever any kind of romantic feelings between you and Heath?" When there was no reply, Edgar nudged her gently,

"Catherine?"

Cat didn't answer, biting her lip so hard it hurt.

"Was he in love with you?"

No answer.

"Did Heath get jealous easily?"

When she still didn't reply, Edgar spoke up, "There was I think…a level of attachment between them. After Catherine and I met, sometimes I would get the feeling that he was rather…jealous of our relationship. In all honesty, if you ask my opinion that was the reason why-"

Cat could faintly heard Edgar continuing to speak, but mostly zoned out of the room and into her own private thoughts. She winced. Jealous. Had Heath been jealous? Yes, she supposed so- but not in the way that Edgar meant. He'd been jealous of her spending more time with Edgar than him- that she'd seemed to throw him over for the life that Edgar had given her. But even she knew that Heath wasn't jealous of the relationship she had with him. That wouldn't have been worthy of his envy- what she shared with Heath was far more stronger and meaningful than anything she could have ever shared with Edgar…

"Miss Ernshawl? Miss Ernshawl?" her eyes snapped back to attention when she realized Kane was calling out her name,

"Huh? What?"

"What about you? Would you say that Heath may have left out of jealousy of you and Edgar's engagement? Would that be a reasonable possibility?"

Cat looked away and out the window of Kane's office. "It's all just…just a misunderstanding." She murmured faintly, "That's all this is. A misunderstanding."

Edgar and Kane exchanged looks again, and he nodded, "Right. I'm sure it probably is. Well…I can't make any absolute promises to you, Miss Ernshawl. I have to be honest with you and admit that I haven't been given a lot to work with here and this could take a while."

Cat smiled bleakly, "Is that your polite way of saying you're not going to be able to find him, Detective?"

"I didn't say that," He replied, "I only said that it would take time. I've never had a case yet where I couldn't find the missing person, and I've been in this business for over thirty years. Don't lose hope- Heath is out there somewhere, and I'm sure we're going to be able to find him soon enough. Here," he took up a notepad and scribbled on it briefly, "This is my number. Call me if you remember anything new or if you have any questions."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank your fiancé Miss Ernshawl. He's the one who's paying for all of this. You're very lucky to have someone who cares about you enough to do this."

Cat smiled at Edgar, but she had the feeling that the smile fell flat when it reached her eyes. All she could think of, was the possibility that soon (perhaps very soon) Kane would find Heath, and she would see him again. And once she did, she could tell him, tell him everything he'd been too late to hear back at the house.

And then…what? What would happen when she told him those things? What next?

She shoved the thought away just as quickly as it had come. She would think about it later- when Heath was with her again. When she could touch him, feel his arms around her. That was all that mattered to her now- when Heath would come back to her…


	35. Chapter 35: Taking Drastic Measures

_A/N: This update is definitely one of my longer ones. The next one should be up very quickly, as I'm working on it even now. I'm trying to move this along and get to where we all would like to be in the story (i.e. Heath's return) But hopefully this chapter will be interesting enough for all of you in the meantime. Enjoy it, folks and thanks for the love-- Jess_

**Chapter Thirty Five: Taking Drastic Measures**

"Edgar, I've decided something. Something important."

Cat looked at Edgar through the reflection in the mirror in their bedroom, her expression calm but firm. Edgar was stripping off his shirt to get ready for bed.

"What's that, hon?" he asked distractedly. He sounded tired- like he usually seemed to be these days. He put in so many hours at work that there were sometimes entire days where Cat didn't even see him.

Cat took up the brush and began pulling it through her thick hair, "I'm not going to go to Europe." She spoke the words loud and clearly, bracing for his reaction.

Edgar froze, looking over at her with a look of stupefied disbelief. "What?" he breathed, "Catherine, what do you mean? You…you have to go!"

"No, I don't. And I'm not going to."

"Wait a minute, just wait and listen to what you're saying! Catherine, this trip to Europe was practically designed for you by the agency. There are dozens of designers and clients in Europe that are expecting you to be there in a few-"

"Well, then they'll be disappointed." She cut in, "I'm not going, Edgar. I can't." He was already crossing the room in swift strides, coming to hunker down beside her at the mirror, looking into her face concernedly, "Catherine, what happened?" he asked, "Just tell me what went wrong. Was it something with Otis? Did the two of you get into a fight? You can't let that get in your way of-"

"This has nothing to do with Otis or anyone else at the agency. I'm making this decision for myself. For me."

"'For you'?" he repeated, "That doesn't make any sense- not when this trip was- is going to make your career."

"My career's doing fine here. I'm making good money, I'm doing what I always wanted to do. I don't need anything more."

"What's happened to you?" he asked, shaking his head, "This doesn't sound like the Catherine I always knew. You used to always strive for something better, never settling for just enough. What happened to your wanting to see London? Paris? Rome?"

"I'm twenty one, I'm still young." She said steadily, "There's still time for me to see all those places."

"But there may not be another opportunity like this to advance your career!" Edgar insisted, his voice raising a little, "Catherine, why are you doing this? What's the matter? Really the matter?"

She shook her head stubbornly, "I just don't want to go, Edgar. Isn't that enough reason?"

"No, no it isn't. Not when I know how much it used to mean to you. You're not the type of person to walk away from anything you want. When did you stop wanting this? What went wrong?" his face faltered a little, "Is it me? Are you afraid we're not going to see each other enough if you go?"

Catherine looked away, wincing a little. "Edgar…" she muttered. She almost wished that that were the reason. It would have made her a better person if that were the reason she didn't want to go to Europe….But it wasn't. And she wasn't.

"Catherine," his hand was at her cheek, stroking just where it met her hairline, "If that's what this is about, then we can work it out, I promise. We'll call each other every night, I can fly out to visit on the weekends….or maybe I can ask my dad if I can just work over there and keep up with the company via internet. It doesn't have to get in the way of-"

Cat brushed his hand away briskly and bolted up to her feet, crossing the room over to the window and walkout balcony. She braced her hands against her temples, shutting her eyes.

"Catherine-"

"_Stop calling me Catherine_!" she suddenly shrieked at him angrily. "My name is Cat! _Cat,_ dammit!"

Edgar stared at her, his blue eyes becoming sad and suddenly understanding. A long silence followed between them. "This doesn't have anything to do with me, does it?" he asked quietly. "Or the agency. That's not the reason you want to stay- is it…Cat?"

She bit her lip, looking out the window in silence.

"Please," he said, "Please don't tell me that…that this has anything to do with- that you wouldn't let something like-"

"Detective Kane called me today," she answered, her own voice small now, "He said that they may have seen him somewhere near-"

"Oh my _God_…" Edgar combed his fingers through the hair on his crown, taking a few steps in a little semi-circle, shutting his eyes, "You can't be serious about this. There's got to be another reason- there must be something else to make you want to-"

"I have to be here, Edgar." She insisted, her voice shook a little, but was firm, "I have to be here just in case-"

"You can't _do_ this!" he broke in, "You cannot do this to your career just because of Him!"

Cat whirled around to face him, "What if he comes back and I'm not here? What if he calls the house, calls Ellie and wants to see me and I'm in Europe?!"

"Well, _so what_?!" Edgar shouted frustratingly, "So what if that happens? Maybe he shouldn't have left you in the first place! Maybe he doesn't deserve for you to be waiting for him like this!"

"Don't say that, you don't have the right!" she snapped back, "You don't know him. He's-"

"I know that he's making you make the worst mistake of your life, and he doesn't even have to be here to do it! He's not here, Cat! _He's not here_!""

"That's why I'm staying!" she yelled back at him, "Don't you understand, I can't leave here not knowing where is! I can't abandon him again!"

"'_Abandon_ him?!' Cat, what do you think he's done to you?!"

"It's not the same thing, I betrayed him first! I pushed him away!"

"Why are you talking like this? This isn't some kind of love affair, you're not in a relationship. You don't owe him any-"

"I owe him _everything_!" she screamed, her voice shaking as she did. Edgar was silent then, staring at her with a look that brought the smallest pangs of guilt in Cat's belly.

She'd went too far. Said too much. She'd given Edgar the wrong impression.

But was it really the wrong impression? Or just the impression she always wanted to keep hidden from him?

Cat closed her eyes, swallowing hard as she took a deep breath in, then out. "I'm sorry." She finally murmured, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Edgar asked her warily. His blue eyes were so sad and dejected. "Telling the truth?"

"I'm…I'm sorry if you don't understand. But…" she shook her head, "I can't leave, Edgar. I can't."

He stared at her in silence for a long moment, then gave a short nod, "Alright. I guess you're not going to, then. Do what you want." He started to turn around and walk away, but Cat caught his forearm,

"Edgar, wait. I don't want you to walk away angry-"

"But you still want me to walk away- isn't that right, Catherine?"

"That isn't true." She insisted, "It isn't."

He acted as though he hadn't heard her, murmuring, "You know sometimes, I wish I could get inside your mind- just for once try and see just what it is you think. What it is that you really want. I wish that often… but then, I don't. Sometimes I don't want to see what's inside your mind. I'm too afraid of what I'd see there."

He pulled out of her grasp and strode across the room, going out the door and closing it behind him.

* * *

Cat couldn't focus in the weeks that followed. Not even when she wanted to. No matter where she was- working, the gym, shopping, Edgar's home- everywhere, her thoughts returned to Heath. When she went to bed at night she would wonder if when she awoke, she would discover that it had all been a dream- that she'd never met Edgar, that Henry had never come back from the war, and her and Heath were together as they had always been. Cat wished so hard for that sometimes.

But she always woke up and discovered that all that had seemed to happen, had in fact occurred. Herny had come home from the war, she'd met Edgar, and Heath was gone, without her having any guarantee of ever seeing him again.

It was this last possibility that weighed upon her the most- this last possibility that hurt most of all.

She emphatically and dedicatedly denied it to Ellie, Edgar and anyone else who suggested otherwise, but deep inside, Cat was beginning to fear that Heath really was gone forever, and would never come back.

Or worse- that something bad had happened to him and he was-

She never even finished the thought, so terrified was she of even the contemplation of it. That couldn't be true. That couldn't be possible.

Cat called Ellie every single day to check and see if there was any sign of Heath back at home- if the police there had found anything, if there was a letter for her, a phone call. Ellie, (who was beginning to sound more and more exasperated and weary of her questions) always replied that no, there was no sign of him, and yes she would call her the instant that anything did come up.

She regularly contacted Detective Kane to inquire about the investigation and search he was carrying out. His reports weren't much more comforting or productive than Ellie's. Every day there seemed to be a new lead, a new hint as to where Heath may be. He'd received a tip that someone had seen him here, he had a source that claimed he was living there. No new development ever seemed to connect with the previous one, or the following one. There was always uncertainty, never really getting anywhere with anything.

She complained to Edgar, not understanding how a private investigator- someone who was paid to find missing people, couldn't find even the steadiest of clues about where Heath had gone. Edgar (whom she also noticed was getting tired of the situation) tried to assuage her with the answer that he was sure Kane was doing the best he could, that he was the best in his field, and that if there was anyone who could find Heath in the whole city, it was him. Cat bit back a tart reply that maybe they should hire someone outside of the city and chose to remain silent instead.

All it seemed she could do was wait. Wait and hope. Ironically enough, these two things seemed to be the hardest ones to do.

She waited and hoped- just as for months and months on end, Heath had waited and hoped for her…

* * *

Cat was dreaming.

She was in a large, open expanse of nothing; nothing but fog. It surrounded and swirled around her, so thick she could barely see. The air was so heavy it was hard for her to breathe. She was naked and cold.

All around her she could see nothing, feel nothing but the fog and the bitterness of the cold. It was there at every turn, it seemed as though she couldn't escape from it.

Suddenly she could make out the smallest shape of a shadow, a silhouette walking through the mists. She called out to it, asking it to wait, stop, help her. It paid her no mind, so Cat tried to follow it. As she did, the fog seemed to clear more and more. She was just able to make out the retreating figure's form more clearly. And suddenly the gait at which it walked was familiar to her.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Heath…" she breathed. A sharp gasp escaped her throat and she rushed forward at a run, "Heath!" she screamed his name over and over again, "Heath! Wait! Heath, stop!" The sound of her voice seemed to echo through the air, sounding over and over again in her ears. But Heath didn't stop, only continuing to walk away from her through the mist.

"Heath! Heath! Can't you hear me?! It's Cat! Please just stop! Wait for me! Don't leave me here! Stop! Stooooop!" she was screaming so hard and loud that her voice was becoming hoarse. It was very strange that even though he was walking at a regular pace, and she was running as hard and as fast as she could, Cat couldn't seem to catch up with him. The faster she ran, the further ahead he pulled from her. She couldn't get to him. She couldn't reach him. And she was running out of breath, out of air.

"H-He-Heeeeath…" she breathed, her chest heaving as her legs slowed down. Her stomach was cramping, twisting in on itself. She tried to run harder and faster and simply ignore the pain, but it was no use after a while. She stopped, gasping for breath as she watched Heath's ever retreating silhouette through the mist, until it completely disappeared from her sight.

Cat felt her eyes burning and the egg rising in her throat. When she couldn't see Heath any longer, the hot tears streamed from her eyes and down her cheeks. She sank down to her knees, crying and gasping from exhaustion all at the same time. Her arms hugged her naked torso, rocking herself back and forth for a few moments. Then she drifted down to the ground, curling up in a fetal position as she continued to weep.

"Don't go…" she whispered, "Don't go where I can't find you…don't go where I can't follow…" She shut her eyes tight, crying ever harder.

That was how she awoke. Cat opened her eyes with a gasp. She was in her and Edgar's bedroom, asleep in the bed. She looked over at Edgar's side.

He wasn't there. That didn't surprise her. He'd taken to staying in later at the office- the position he'd taken often required him to work late on nights.

That was alright. There was nothing he could have done to help her anyway.

Cat wiped her eyes and tried to swallow the tears that had followed her from the dream. She slowly peeled back the comforter and climbed out of bed, padding across the carpet to the adjoining bathroom and shutting herself in. She took up the glass that sat by the sink and filled it up halfway with tap water. Her hands trembled and she tried to steady them as she raised the glass to her lips and drank the cool liquid.

She continued to drink, but it didn't assuage her grief. Cat raised her eyes to the mirror and looked at her reflection. She saw the puffy eyed, distraught young woman with her hair falling into her face.

But then, she saw something else. She saw a tall, raven haired young man with green eyes, smooth lips and a defined jaw. His eyes. God, his eyes-

Cat uttered a small gasp and let the glass slip from her fingers and onto the floor. It shattered.

Just then, she heard a knock on the door and familiar voice from on the other side,

"Cat? Cat is everything alright? It's me."

Edgar. She hadn't even heard him come in. She hastily wiped at her eyes and inhaled deeply, "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just…I accidentally dropped a glass on the floor and it broke."

"Oh, alright. Well…don't worry about it, we'll have Christina clean it up in the morning. Come on back to bed, it's late."

When Cat came back outside, Edgar was taking off his work clothes, stripped down to just his boxers. He started to give her a small, but weary smile, but stopped short we he saw her face,

"Cat! What's wrong? Are you alright?" he was already coming over to her, tipping her chin up to look at him. Cat kept her eyes averted to the floor, avoiding his gaze,

"Yes, I'm fine." She tried to say, but he was stroking her hair with one hand and touching her cheek with the other,

"God, you've been crying. What's the matter? What happened?"

"It- it was no- nothing," she stammered lowly, trying to keep the tears at bay "I just… I had a bad dream. A nightmare, and it….it really upset me."

"Poor baby." He pulled her to him and stroked her back. Cat's arms around him were limp and half-hearted, but he seemed not to notice.

"It's gonna be alright." Edgar was murmuring into her ear, "You hear me? It's going to be alright."

No it isn't, Cat thought to herself miserably, Things will never be alright. Not ever again. Not until he comes back to me…

He was leading her over to the bed, helping her into it, then going back over to his side and getting in. He drew her to his side and held her against his chest. Edgar lifted her face up, stroking her cheek with his fingertips, "I love you." He said to her gently, "I love you so much. Nothing will ever change that."

Cat was suddenly transported back in time, hearing another voice,

_You're mine….you can marry anyone you want- but it doesn't change that…nothing changes that Cat….nothing…nothing…nothing _

The word echoed over and over again in her mind. For a while it was all she had sense of. Then she could feel Edgar's hands stroking her arm, then her waist. His lips were on hers, kissing them more lingeringly, more passionately. He was whispering against her skin, and she thought he was saying that she was everything to him, that he needed her so much now, that it had been such a long time since he'd made love to her. Then his hands were at her breasts, at the hem of her nightie, pushing it up her thighs as he shifted his body around so that it was on top of her. He was pushing her legs apart, tugging on her panties.

Cat shut her eyes tightly, still hearing Heath's voice in her head, over and over again, _You're mine…you're mine…you're mine…Cat…Cat…Cat…CAT!_

"No," she moaned quietly, "No…" she raised her hands up and managed to wedge them between her and Edgar's chest, bracing the palms against his torso.

"Edgar, stop." She said louder this time, "I don't want to, just stop."

He was kissing her neck, and didn't act as though he heard her. So she fought harder, pushing at his chest and kicking her legs,

"Edgar not now…get off of me…stop it!"

"C'mon…" he muttered frustratingly, but she shoved at him as hard as she could,

"I…said…no!" she managed to shove him off her body and off to the side. Panting heavily, she immediately turned away from him onto her side, hugging herself tightly.

Also panting heavily, Edgar was sitting up on his elbow, looking down at her in wounded frustration,

"What's the matter with you?" his voice was angry, but it was softened by the pain she also heard inside it, "It's been two months since we've-"

"I don't care, I don't want to." she ground out, staring at nothing.

"What about what I want? What about how I feel? Do you even care about that anymore, Cat?"

"I'm _not_ in the _mood_ for making love, Edgar." She said through gritted teeth, "Not now."

"Is it me? Something I'm doing wrong? Do I not arouse you anymore?" He shook her shoulder roughly when there was no reply, "_Answer_ me!"

"Leave me _alone_!" she moaned, and her voice quavered a little. She heard nothing but silence at first, then Edgar's voice, tight and hurt,

"Fine. Have it your way, then." He threw back the covers on his side and climbed out of the bed. A few moments later, the bedroom door slammed shut.

Cat allowed her eyes to shut with a heavy sigh. She curled up tight in the fetal position again, burying her face in the pillow, as if to shut out the world around her.

* * *

The phone by the bed woke her up very early the next morning. She started abruptly, then allowed her eyes to close again, assuming that someone else in the house would eventually answer it. But the phone only kept ringing and ringing. Finally, Cat managed to shake herself out of her grogginess, and picked up the receiver, "H-hello?" she muttered, somewhat irritably.

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the line.

"Hello?" she repeated.

Still…nothing.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she snapped. She could hear the sound of breathing on the other side, but there was no reply to her question.

"Look, if you don't tell me who the hell you are I'm going to hang-" she stopped short then. The annoyance in her face melted away and she exhaled sharply, trying to slow the suddenly racing pace of her heart. Suddenly she knew who it was on the other line. Somewhere, deep inside- she just knew.

"Oh my…" she whispered, "Oh God…" she sat up in the bed, gripping the receiver so tight her knuckled turned white, "Where are you?" she asked, her voice trembling, "Are you in New York? Are you at home?"

Nothing.

"Listen to me. I'm not angry at you. I'm not. I just want to know where you are."

No answer, but the breathing continued. Cat was struggling to maintain her composure, desperate not to burst into tears- not now, not when he was listening,

"Please. Please Heath, just…just say something. Tell me where you are. I'm begging you…"

More silence followed, and Cat allowed her eyes to close, as she swallowed the egg in her throat. He wasn't going to answer. He'd called just to be cruel. To torture her. But even so- just to know that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere was enough to take away any anger she may have felt. All she could feel was a wild, terrible desperation to see him again,

"Just come back," she finally whispered, the tears now managing to pierce her voice, "Just come back to me…"

A few more seconds passed, then to her shock, she finally heard a voice on the other end of the line- a voice she would know anywhere,

"…No."

One word. That was all- then there came a click, and Cat could hear nothing but the dial tone, signaling the end of the call.

Cat continued to press the receiver to ear, her face displaying a mixture of shock and disbelief. Her mouth hung open stupidly, as if she couldn't believe what had just happened.

She fumbled around and blindly reached for the redial button on the phone and raised it back up to her ear. The operator's voice came on over the line,

"We're sorry. The number you've dialed is unavailable at this time-"

"No…" she murmured, pressing the button again,

"We're sorry. The number you've dialed is unavailable-"

"No please…please God, no..." she pressed the redial again,

"We're sorry. The number you've dialed is unavailable at this-"

"No! Heath don't do this, don't go!" she cried raggedly.

"We're sorry. The number you've-"

"DAMMIT! Damn you, you fucking son of a _bitch_!" she shrieked. The receiver slipped from her hands and fell to the ground with a thud. She pressed her hands to her face, beginning to cry once more.

Her back was turned to the bedroom door. But even if it had not been, she probably still would not have noticed that it was open, and that Edgar was standing just outside of it, listening and looking at her through the crack. His face was hard and bitter as he watched her weep.

"Damn him." He whispered, before turning around and walking away down the hallway, "God damn him to hell."

* * *

"And you're sure it was him who made the phone call?" Kane leaned up against the edge of his desk as he looked down at her. Cat was practically sitting on the edge of the seat- a little further forward and she would have toppled down to the floor altogether.

"Yes." She answered emphatically, "It was Heath. I _know_ it."

"But you say he wouldn't speak to you at all? Not even when you said his name?"

Cat let her gaze falter a little bit, "No. Not exactly."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I…I asked him to just come back. And he said no. Then he hung up the phone."

"Miss Ernshawl, if what you're saying is true-"

"It is true." She insisted, "What, are you calling me a liar?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just trying to make a point here- if what you say is true, and Heath called you, but refused to tell you his whereabouts or come home- why would he feel the need to call you in the first place?"

Cat was quiet for a long moment, looking down into her lap, "He's just trying to punish me." She answered at last. Kane frowned a little, seeming a bit bewildered,

"'Punish you'? I don't quite understand what you mean."

"He just wanted me to be hurt. He knew that hearing from him, but not knowing where he was would be enough to hurt me. He knew that."

"Why would Heath want to hurt you, Miss Ernshawl?"

"Because-" she stopped short, biting her lip for a moment before murmuring, "Because I hurt him. I hurt him so badly….and he wants to punish me for it. And…because he loves me."

"He loves you?" Kane sounded skeptical, "People don't hurt other people that they love, Miss Ernshawl."

Cat looked up at him, almost giving a bleak smile, "Yes, they do." She whispered. "What do you think I'm doing here in the first place?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then a look of realization came into his eyes. "Ah. I see…" He came closer to her, kneeling down a little so that he was on level with her gaze, "Miss Ernshawl, does Edgar know what it is that you're not quite willing to come right out and tell me?"

"What do you think Detective Kane?" she asked grimly. He gave a short nod,

"Does he know that Heath has contacted you?"

She shook her head slowly, "No. I don't think so, anyway. I don't- I don't really talk to him about any of this anymore. He doesn't want to…it just doesn't interest him as much as it does me."

"I have to admit that I rather understand that."

"Look," Cat said, "I didn't come here to talk about ay of that. I just…I just came here to try and use the phone call to find him. Is there anyway that you can trace that number?"

Kane nodded slowly, "It is possible. May take awhile, but we can give it a shot."

"I don't care how long it takes…so long as we can find him." She stood to her feet, "Let me know as soon as you find something. Anything at all."

"I always do, Miss Ernshawl. I always do."

* * *

Cat picked up the receiver for the telephone slowly, her face was weary and creased with lines of exhaustion.

The phone on the other side of the line rang for a few more moments before Ellie's voice came on over the speaker,

"Hello?"

"Ellie? Hey, it's me."

"Oh, Cat! Hi, hon it's good to hear from you again."

"Yeah, you too. How's Harry?"

"Oh, he's doing alright hon. He's sleeping better through the night now. He's even started doing a little bit of talking, I think."

"Oh yeah? What's he saying?" Cat asked dryly, "Da-da?"

Ellie was quiet for a moment, "No. He's saying Ma-ma." They both were quiet then, then Ellie began speaking again, "Well, anyway. He's doing fine. What about you? How are you doing? How's Edgar?"

Cat sighed heavily. "That's…kinda what I wanted to talk to you about, Ellie. Something's happened."

"What? What's happened, Cat?"

"Mr. Linton had a stroke yesterday."

She heard a gasp on the other side of the line, "Oh my God! Cat, I'm so sorry, that's terrible! Well, what's happening now? Do the doctors know whether he'll be alright?"

She sighed, shaking her head, "It's bad, Ellie. It was a hemorrhagic stroke. He's in a coma right now. They're not even sure when or if he'll even wake up."

"Oh God…" Ellie murmured, "How did this happen?"

"When we got to the ER yesterday the doctors started asking Mrs. Linton, Edgar and Isabella all these questions. From what they said, Mr. Linton's been really stressed out lately- putting in too much work at his company. He already had high blood pressure and diabetes. I guess it all just got to be too much." She paused, "Ellie, I think now I understand why Edgar decided to give up his photography and go to work for his dad. He was worried something like this would happen. I didn't understand it then…I didn't even imagine that-"

"Shhh," Ellie broke in, "Don't go blaming yourself for anything. It doesn't matter now. I can't even imagine how hard this must be for the Lintons."

"They're all taking it really hard," Cat agreed, "Especially Isabella and Mrs. Linton."

"What about Edgar?"

"I know it's wearing down on him too- but he's not really letting it show. I think he's just trying to be strong for his family."

"Poor Edgar…" Ellie murmured, then after a short pause, asked, "What about you? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright. I feel so sorry for all of them, but especially Edgar. He's the one who's going to have to take over his father's company if-" she broke off momentarily, "Well, if the worst happens. He's responsible for handling Mr. Linton's estate. Then he's looking after Linda and Isabella too. I want to try to help, but," she gave a sigh, "Most of the time I feel like I'm being so useless. Like there's nothing I _can_ do to help him."

"You can just be there." Ellie said firmly, "Do you hear me, Cat? That's the most important thing you can do for Edgar right now. Just be there for him, stand beside him and support him. If he knows he has you there just for that alone, it'll help."

Cat gave a somewhat uneasy nod, "Yeah…I guess you're right." She knew without question that now wouldn't have been a good time to bring up the widening gap that existed between her and Edgar nowadays. That that gap was the reason why she hadn't really felt like she _could_ be that much of a support system to him in the past twenty four hours or so. Oh sure, she'd been to the hospital, sat in the waiting room with the Lintons; held Isabella's hand, hugged a weeping Linda and told her it was going to be alright. But she and Edgar had said very little to one another for even the past few weeks. She couldn't pretend it was his fault either. That wouldn't have been fair. Even she could admit it to herself: she was pulling away from him. Shutting him out. There were some days when they didn't even speak to one another. Cat was finding that it was just becoming easier to avoid Edgar altogether- to see through him.

Doing that made it possible for her to focus on Heath without feeling guilty.

She was waiting everyday for some word, some update from Kane about the phone call she'd gotten from Heath last week. Every time the phone rang, she was the first one to pick it up (even if she had to run and just barely manage to snatch it from the grasp of Isabella or the Linton's maid)

And now Gregory's stroke had happened. Cat truly did feel sorry about it. She'd like Edgar's father- he'd always been kind to her. She truly felt sorry for Linda and Isabella, who she knew were close to him. And she felt even worse for Edgar. She did.

And yet…_yet_…

"I have to go now, Ellie." She said, "I'll call you later if anything… changes." She and Ellie said their goodbyes, then Cat hung up the phone.

Try as she might (and she did try) she couldn't banish the tiny feeling of irritation she'd felt at hearing the news of Gregory's stroke. Irritation that now, she would be expected to be the "supportive" girlfriend that Ellie had urged her to be. Supportive meant bringing herself closer to Edgar- comforting him; emotionally _and_ physically. It meant that she couldn't be so open in her own sorrow over losing Heath. It meant something taking her attention (her full attention) away from Heath, period.

And Cat resented that. She knew it probably made her out to be a bad person (perhaps the worst) but she couldn't help it. Deep inside, in a place that not even she wanted to explore- she harbored the smallest bit of resentment for it all…

* * *

It was late in the evening, with perhaps just one more hour left for visiting hours at the hospital. Gregory Linton had been given his own room. Six days after his stroke and he was still in his coma, as unresponsive and unconsciousness as ever.

Linda and Isabella had left and gone home a few hours earlier- or rather, Edgar had sent them home, assuring them that he would stay and sit with his father. He wanted them to get some rest, get something to eat. He didn't want them to make themselves ill- he'd be fine…

If one were to take a first glance at him, they would have believed the contrary.

There were deep, dark circles beneath Edgar's eyes, and he looked like he had received even less than the twelve hours of sleep he'd had in the past one hundred and sixty eight hours since his father's stroke. The rims of his bottom eyelids were red and puffy. He went to work early in the morning, handling as much business and responsibilities of his father's as he was able, then around midday, left work and came straight to the hospital to sit with his father and family. And even after he returned home, he didn't sleep. Cat had slept alone in the king sized bed in their bedroom for days.

Edgar consistently offered comfort to both his sister and mother, giving daily assurances that Gregory would wake up from his coma soon- that everything would be alright…even if every doctor that had seen the wealthy tycoon had given a completely contradictory report. He'd done the very same thing that day before he sent Isabella and Linda home- even managing to give them an encouraging smile this time, however strained it may have been.

Cat had stayed at the hospital with him- just as she had done consistently since the stroke. She was trying to take Ellie's advice and 'be there' for Edgar in the best way she could. She really was trying. They hadn't reached the point where Edgar felt as though he could talk to her about the stroke, or the effect that it was having upon him. They weren't physically or emotionally affectionate with one another either. The extent of the support that Cat even seemed allowed to give, was just being there with Edgar at the hospital, and driving home with him when visiting hours were over.

Now, she sat in a reclining chair in a darkened corner of the room, trying to fight her own feelings of sleepiness. She looked at Edgar, sitting a few feet away from her at his father's bedside. It was a position he'd taken nearly every day. Sometimes she would see a mirroring sheen reflected in his eyes. Other times he would hold his father's hand, murmuring things to him she tried not to hear out of respect for his privacy.

Tonight, Edgar was just sitting in his chair, looking down at Gregory with that sad, wistful despondence that only he knew how to display.

Cat was beginning to nod off, when she sharply snapped herself back up to attention. She gave a small sigh and rubbed her eyes, briefly combing her fingers through her hair. She rose to her feet and crossed the short distance between her chair and Edgar's, stopping when she was standing just behind him, "Edgar?" she called out softly.

"Yes?" His voice was level and serene, in spite of the exhaustion etched into his features.

"I have to go to the bathroom. And my legs are feeling a little stiff- I thought I'd stretch them out a little bit. I'll be right back."

He nodded once, "Alright. I'll see you in a few then."

She nodded as well, and started to leave the room. Just as she was walking past him however, Edgar, without even taking his eyes away from his father, suddenly reached out and his hand closed around her wrist, halting her in her tracks. The grip wasn't abrasive, but it was firm. A little startled, Cat looked at him, waiting.

Edgar was quiet for a moment, but then he licked his lips once and spoke, "I want to thank you, Catherine."

"For- for what?"

"For being here." He answered. His hand was moving down from her wrist to take her hand. He wove his fingers through hers and brought it closer to his face, turning it so that her palm was facing downward, the back of it poised beneath his lips. "Thank God you're here…" he whispered hoarsely against her skin before pressing his lips against it in a kiss.

Cat looked down at him, feeling something inside of her crumble. Using her other hand, she brushed the tips of her fingers over the top of his blond hair in a comforting gesture.

Edgar let go of her hand with a heavy sigh. He sniffed loudly, making his hands form a steeple beneath his chin as he still looked down at his father. "Go on." He urged her, "Take your walk. You must be exhausted." Cat obeyed, leaving the room and going out into the brightly lighted hallway.

A little while later, after she'd used the restroom and walked around the hospital lobby to stretch her legs, Cat was heading back to Gregory's room, when suddenly, she heard her cell phone ringing. Digging through her purse, she finally found it, "Hello?"

"Miss Ernshawl? It's Kane."

Cat's heart skipped a beat, "Detective!" she exclaimed, "What is it? What's the matter? Have you…found something?"

"As a matter of fact I have. My sources were able to trace the phone call placed to you, to a number from a location somewhere in the East Side of Brooklyn."

"The East Side?" Cat repeated, feeling a little sinking on the inside. She knew of the area, but she'd certainly never been there herself- Edgar never would have wanted her in a place like that. It was a world away from the Linton mansion in TriBeCa, that was for damn sure.

The thought of Heath in a place like that disturbed her.

"Yeah," Kane was saying, "The address is 675 Lincoln Avenue, Apartment 12. Now, considering the time of night and the neighborhood that the place is located in, I'd suggest waiting until the morning to-"

"Wait?" Cat broke in, "We can't do that! What if he's not there by the time we get there? What if he's gone?"

"Miss Ernshawl, that's not likely. I've checked in with the leasing office and they tell me that the renter of the apartment, a Mr. H. Ernshawl, has been there for the past three months and been a dependable tenant. Now, it's unlikely that Heath will be missing from the apartment and we can even go to the place at a time tomorrow that he is sure to be there."

"I don't want to wait until tomorrow." Cat insisted, "I can't. I have a feeling that if I wait until tomorrow, I won't see him."

"Please don't take offense to this, Miss Ernshawl, but quite frankly, that's ridiculous. Now, as I've said the best course of action here, is to just wait until tomorrow, then we can go and confront him."

Cat sighed exasperatedly, feeling her patience wearing thin. "Detective, I know you just want to do your job here. I respect that. But I don't think you understand how important he- this is to me…My instincts are usually right. They just are. And I can't risk losing the opportunity to see Heath again, danger or no danger."

"Miss Ernshawl, if you're not willing to wait, then will you at least take your fiancée with you to the place? Just for your own security?"

Cat raked a hand through her hair wearily, "I can't do that either." She muttered. "Something's…he's not…that just wouldn't be a good idea right now."

Kane was silent on the other end for a moment, then, "Alright. Since you obviously can't be dissuaded…just wait for me. I'll come by your house and pick you up and we'll go together. Agreed?"

Cat bit her lip, trying to decide whether or not to tell Kane where she really was. She hastily decided against it- it would have led to too many questions, and she just knew that if he found out that Mr. Linton had had a stroke, he would have disproved even more of taking her to see Heath. He would have judged her for even wanting to go.

Cat didn't need his questions. She didn't need any judgment or criticism. There would be time for that later. The only thing she needed now was to go that address.

"Agreed." She heard herself answering. "I'll…I'll see you soon. Thank you Detective." She hung up the phone, and put it back in her purse. She stood there for a moment, trying to steel herself, to seem normal but calm.

When she returned through the door of the room, Edgar looked up at her. He smiled, and this time, it was a real one- the first real one he'd given in weeks. It only made Cat want to leave more- to run away from his steadfast love that even she knew she could never deserve.

"Edgar," she said, hearing the nervous tone in her voice, "I- I have to go."

"Are you tired?" he asked concernedly, "Me too. I'm sorry I've made you sit up here for such a long time. You really didn't have to, you should have went home with Mom and Isa-"

"It's okay." Cat hastily assured him, "I just…I think I'd better leave. You don't have to come, I can just get a cab on my-"

"No, it's alright." Edgar said, shaking his head as he rose to his feet, "I'm…I'm feeling really beat myself. Maybe I should just take everyone's advice and just try and get some sleep. I'll come with you."

Cat bit her lip as she looked down at the ground. He wasn't making any of this any easier for her. "Edgar…" she murmured, "I'd really like to just…leave on my own."

He stared at her confusingly, "But…why? Is it me? Are you still-" he stopped short. His face became blank at first, then it relaxed into a grim, tight realization

"It's Him, isn't it?" he asked, his voice like granite, "It's something about Him…" he gave a sharp snort under his breath, "What else could it be?"

Cat said nothing at first, not knowing how to reply without making thing any worse. Then she chose to say what was in her mind, "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" he asked, almost sardonically, "I don't think you're sorry, Catherine. Not _that_ sorry." He sat back down beside the bed, refocusing his attention on his father. Cat lingered where she stood, still feeling as though she should say something else in her defense, however weakly it came across,

"Edgar…I _have_ to go. Detective Kane gave me the address to where Heath is-"

"Just go, Cat." He broke in stonily, "Go and don't worry: my father will probably still be in a coma when you get back. So there's nothing worth keeping you here, is there?"

She winced at that, feeling the sting behind the words- the well deserved sting. She lingered there for a few more seconds, then (before she lost her nerve) turned and fled from the room without another word. With every step she took down the hallway and towards the elevator, Cat could feel the barbs of guilt and self condemnation jabbing at her.

So she didn't look back. She kept her attention focused straight ahead- focused upon reaching the East Side..and seeing Heath again.

* * *

"You lied to me last night." Kane's gaze was disapproving as he looked at Cat from across his desk the next morning.

Cat was hugging herself tightly, eyes glued to the floor stonily. She said nothing.

"You made me think that you were at the Linton's, and you weren't. You didn't tell me you were at the hospital, and you didn't tell me that Mr. Linton had had a stroke."

Cat gave a small, cynical smile, "Was any of that supposed to make a difference?" she asked, "What do the Lintons have to do with Heath?"

"Miss Ernshawl," he said frustratingly, "You shouldn't have gone by yourself…and even if you think it's none of my business, I don't think it was right for you to leave the hospital when your fiancée's father is in the hospital with a coma."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't care what you think, isn't it?" Cat suddenly snapped. She caught herself and sighed, raking her fingers into her hair, "Look, it doesn't matter anyway. None of it did any good."

"Care to explain?"

Cat looked down at the ground, her eyes sad and dejected as she continued, "When I first got there, no one would answer the door when I knocked. I waited there for an hour, just in case he was out somewhere. Then one of the neighbors came by and they…" she shook her head blindly, "They said he'd left earlier that afternoon and hadn't been back since. I didn't want to believe it. So I went to see the landlord, and I gave him three hundred bucks if he would just open the door to let me see inside. And when he did…" she let her voice trail off, sighing again, "There were only a few things left inside. An old army cot, a chair and table. Besides that it was empty."

"The landlord or neighbor know where he went?"

"No." she whispered. "Neither of them seemed to know very much about him."

He sighs heavily, swiping a hand through his thinning hair. "Alright." He says at last, "I'll have to start asking around again. It may take a little longer to try and found out where he's gone this time"

Cat could already feel the sinking inside her belly. More time. More waiting. More uncertainty. Always the same. Just barely finding Him- but not quite. All of the efforts were never, ever quite enough.

"How long?" she asked dully.

"I'll call you when I find something new." Was all he said.

She nodded numbly, rising to her feet. Kane walked her to the door that was still cracked open, and she started to go out, but paused, raising her eyes to his,

"I love Edgar, Detective Kane. Don't think that I don't… I do. It's just…" she let her voice trail off, giving a little shake of her head, as if there was nothing else to be done about it.

"I understand, Miss Ernshawl. Goodbye." He watched her walk away down the hallway and get on the elevator. Just as the doors closed, he looked in the opposite direction of where Cat had gone.

From around the corner, just outside the office door, Edgar stepped out from where he'd been hiding (and listening). His face was shadowed with grimness and a hurt that was struggling to maintain its dignity. He strode into Kane's office without a word, waiting until the older man had shut the door behind him to speak, his voice dull but strained,

"Tell me what you're not telling her."

Kane was walking back behind his desk, sitting down in the leather chair, "You want me to be honest?"

"Of course."

"I think he knows she's looking for him. Actively looking for him. I think he knows…and he's doing all of this on purpose. Giving her the merry go round with the whole deal."

"What would make you believe that?"

"Because if he really wanted to see her again, he would have already. But if he didn't want her to even gain a clue of where he was, he wouldn't have come to New York, where it would be so easy for me to locate him."

"So you think this is some kind of game to him? A way to get back at her for hurting him?"

Kane nodded, "Yes, I do. That…and other things. He's watching her too."

Edgar stared at him, "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean _he's _watching _her_- spying on her, stalking her, take your pick in terminology. I've seen him do it."

"You mean you," Edgar swallowed hard, "You've seen him? Heath?"

Kane nodded, "Yes. I'm still a private investigator, Edgar. The guy made be good at skipping out and covering his tracks, but I'm still the best in the business. I always find my man. New York's a big city- but not that big. The way I see it," he gave a small, indifferent shrug, "He's doing all this shit deliberately. He didn't have to come to New York, but he did. He didn't have to call her, but he did. And he didn't have to live in a place that would have been so damn easy to track down, but he did anyway."

"So he's not letting her move on," Edgar said grimly, "He's just going to keep doing this?"

"Well that's the thing I wanted to tell you. I went to the place early this morning…and it turns out that there was a fire last night not long after Cat left. A really bad one. It started on of the lower levels, but it spread and rose up. The whole damn building nearly caved in."

Edgar's face changed, and he leaned forward in the chair, "And?" he asked, his voice just barely a whisper.

Kane shrugged, "Nothing's certain. The fire department managed to get out most of the people. But there were a few who either didn't make it out or still haven't been accounted for. Including him."

"So…he may be dead?"

"Or he may be alive." He answered, "I'll have to investigate further into the situation. Like I said: nothing's certain."

"Does Cat know about the fire?"

"Not as far as I know."

Edgar was quiet for a long time, looking down at the ground while a muscle worked in his jaw, "Look," he said at last, "I don't care about what happened to him, Louis. I care about her. So long as he isn't interfering in our lives anymore- that's all I'm concerned about. That's why I called you this morning. The best thing to do right now I think is…to just use this as a…an opportunity,"

Kane frowned confusingly, "An opportunity?"

"I want you to change the direction of the investigation." Edgar answered steadily, "From now on…I think it'd be best that any new leads you get on Heath's whereabouts- if he's even still alive- we keep between the two of us."

"You mean not tell Miss Ernshawl?"

"Exactly."

"Why would we do that?"

Edgar crossed his arms over his chest, "Because I think it's the best thing for her, that's why…" his jaw tightened as he continued, "Because she'll never stop looking for him- no matter how much it destroys her career, no matter how much it damages her own peace of mind, and no matter how much it hurts our relationship- she'll never stop. But she has to. One way or another… this has to end."

"So you explained to me over the phone." Kane remarked, "And I just want you to know that I do understand where you're coming from Edgar. I understand your concerns. But just the same I don't think this is-"

"He was never good enough for her, Louis." Edgar said, his voice taking on an almost bitter tone, "I could see that from early on. He's the only thing that was ever strong enough to distract her from what was best. Nothing else seems to matter to her in comparison to him- it's like she doesn't even have a real life anymore. I thought I could make her grow out of that if I could keep her here. In New York…away from him. But even that wasn't enough. He's made her give up her career, everything she worked so hard for. And now he's even coming in between the two of us so that-" Edgar stopped abruptly, realizing that he was speaking aloud thoughts he would have rather kept private. He cleared his throat somewhat stiffly before he continued, "I've been as patient as I can be about this. But enough's enough. I just want my fiancée back."

Kane sighed heavily, "Edgar, I said that I understand where you're coming from. And I really do. I sympathize with you one hundred percent. But to take this kind of approach to the situation…it may be little drastic. Maybe we should just wait a little while longer-"

"I've waited as long as I can, Louis. I'm not going to compete with him anymore. I want him out of our lives."

"Edgar, even if I do tell Cat what you want me to…even if I were to try and make her believe that he's…" the private investigator shook his head, "There's no guarantee that this won't backfire in your face. There's no guarantee that he didn't survive. Suppose one day he just turns up and-"

"I just…I just need time," Edgar broke in, his voice weary and frustrated, "If I can just get some time to make her refocus her mind on her priorities- on the things that matter…I can get through to her. I know I can."

Kane stared at him skeptically, "And you think this is the best way to do it? Make her believe a lie?"

Edgar was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again it was just above a whisper, "Maybe it isn't a lie. And even if it is- he's better off dead to her anyway..."he cleared his throat, standing to his feet, "I um…I have to get back to the hospital to see my father now." He was reaching into his wallet. He pulled out a small stack of hundred dollar bills, folded together with a money clip, then held them out to Kane, saying, "Let me know anything I should…be aware of, alright?"

Even though he took the money, Kane still seemed uncertain, "Edgar…" he shook his head, "I really, really do think you should reconsider this course of action. If you're trying to win Cat back, this isn't the-"

"She's my fiancée, Louis." Edgar broke in, his voice suddenly hard and unyielding, "_My_ fiancée. Not his. I won't share her with him- not anymore." He strode out the door of the office without another word.

* * *

_ (It's a fanfiction sin to read and not press that lovely review button at the bottom of the screen. I'm just saying though :D )_


	36. Chapter 36: Grieving

_A/N: Hey guys. I told you this update would be coming a little quicker than usual, as I've been harder at work on the story lately. The next one should also be coming pretty quick as well, so don't worry. We are getting closer to Heath's return, I promise. I just apologize if the pace of the story and how I update it seems slow at times. I tend to be very...expressive when I write, and I'm one that's all about the details, so sometimes I take a while to move from one point to another. I appreciate all of you guys so much who read and review this story, you have no idea. It really does give me encouragement and motivation, so I'll just ask you to keep it coming and continue to be patient with me on this. Hope you enjoy the update--Jess_

**Chapter Thirty Six: Grieving**

Cat didn't like the look on Kane's face when she arrived at his office that morning. She couldn't read or make out what it meant.

He'd called her that morning, two days since she'd last been in his office and asked her to come in- but wouldn't tell her over the phone what the reason was. "Please, Miss Ernshawl," he said, "Please just come- and bring Edgar with you."

It was that last request- that she bring Edgar with her- that unnerved her most of all. Cat always went to see Kane alone, he knew that. And she had a feeling that he also knew that that was how she preferred it to be.

And yet he had said to bring Edgar anyway. The tone of his voice had been firmly insistent and serious- even more serious than it usually was.

Edgar was being unusually considerate to her (especially considering the frigidness that had existed between them as of late). On the drive to Kane's, he had reassured her that there was probably nothing wrong- that Kane had probably just found a new lead as to where Heath had gone. Cat had only half listened to him as she stared out the window of the passenger's seat anxiously, her hands fidgeting in lap.

When they arrived at the office, and Kane had opened the door for them to come in, Cat nearly pounced on him, "What is it?" she asked almost immediately, "What's wrong?"

"Miss Ernshawl, Edgar," Kane said in greeting, "Why don't you two sit down?" he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Edgar did start to go for one, but Cat didn't follow him. She remained standing where she was by the door, hands clenched at her sides. She didn't know why she was feeling so paranoid all of a sudden…but she was. Very much so.

"Tell me what's happened." She said, "Did you get a new lead? Did one of the neighbors find out where he'd gone?"

Kane exchanged a glance with Edgar. Cat felt a twist in her stomach at that look. What was going on here that he didn't want to tell her? "C'mon Miss Ernshawl, please let's just sit down and talk about this-"

"I saw that." she broke in rigidly.

"What? You saw what?"

"I saw that look. You're not telling me something. You don't want to…what is it? What happened?"

She felt Edgar's hand take hers and give it a gentle pull, "Catherine, let's just sit down first-"

She yanked her hand out of his grip, shouting, "I don't want to sit down! I want someone to tell me what the hell is going on here!"

Kane was silent for a long moment, looking away from her. "Cat." He said at last, "I really…_really_ think you need to sit down. Right now."

Cat stared at him, her face blank. The longer she looked at him, the more she was able to read in his face.

Then, she knew. She knew what it was he wasn't saying. What it was he wanted her to be sitting down to hear.

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in her face in slow motion. She felt like she'd been whiplashed; slowly and lingeringly so that she could feel every brusque, brutal motion.

Her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly she felt like she was going to be sick all over the carpet.

"No." she heard a voice whisper, then realized it was her own.

Kane's face seemed strained and nervous, as if he was trying to find the words to say to her, "There was a…a fire shortly after you left the apartment building."

"No." There was a roaring sound in her ears, making Kane's voice seem distant and far away.

"It spread to the upper levels of the building and nearly destroyed it. The fire department managed to get some people out but-"

"No." Cat was breathing harder and faster now, her eyes had an incredible burning sensation behind them. Her throat felt as though it were shrinking, making it harder for her draw breath from her lungs.

"There was a number of people who either were missing or… didn't make it out."

"No. No..." Her heart was beating faster and faster. Why was that roaring sound in her ears so overpowering? Why was it becoming so hard to breathe?

"Cat, Heath was among the number of people that are presumed to be either missing or-"

"_No!_" she suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, "No, no, no, no, no, _NOOOO_!" the last word ended in a wail, that then faded into a scream. She moaned sharply, eyes wide and unseeing as she covered her mouth with her hands, as if to try and stifle the sobs heaving up her throat.

Edgar was at her side, trying to take her into his arms. But she was frantically fighting him off, trying to bolt and run for the door. She had to get out, she had to get to the East Side- she had to go back. She had to find Heath. She

Now both Edgar and Kane had to hold her, stop her from swinging her arms and fists at them to try and break free. She was screaming and sobbing uncontrollably- cursing them in between agonized cries of Heath's name.

Her chest felt so tight and constricted. She felt dizzy. The room was spinning, faster and faster. Edgar's horrified face was now a blur to her, continually fading away into a rapidly growing, inky darkness….

* * *

Cat awakened from a dreamless sleep- slowly at first, her eyelids slowly cracking open to the dimness of the bedroom. They first found the ceiling, locking onto the fan that made lazy circles through the air. Cat's mind wandered for a few moments- a few moments where everything was alright. Where the world was normal.

Then she remembered. She remembered what she was doing in the bed, and why she hadn't left it for two days- and the tears came back like a flood, spilling down over her cheeks in silent streams. Cat's mouth was parted slightly to allow for the passage of quiet weeping. Her chest rose and fell to meet it, over and over again.

Suddenly she felt a light touch on her wrist, a stroking soothing one. She turned her head to look.

Ellie looked down at her sympathetically as she murmured, "It's alright, hon. It's alright."

Cat's face crumbled at the sight of her, and she sat up far enough to throw herself into Ellie's open, familiar arms. She cried against her chest for a long time while the older woman simply stroked her hair and back.

"Oh God…" Cat moaned, "Oh God, no…noooo…"

"Shhh…it's alright."

No, it wasn't alright, Cat thought vehemently. It wasn't alright, and it would never be alright again. This wasn't a dream, not some terrible nightmare. It was real, all of it was real.

Heath was dead. He was gone- really gone forever this time.

She really had screamed, sobbed and railed like a madwoman in Kane's office. They really had had to take her to the hospital- the doctor really had been forced to give her a sedative just to calm her down. She really had thought about swallowing the bottle full of codeine pills in the cabinet in the bathroom, it hadn't been a dream. She'd even held the bottle in her hands, staring at it fixedly- that was how Edgar found her. A psychiatrist really had come down to do a psych consult- she hadn't imagined telling him through a voice that shook with tears to go to hell- she'd really done that. The past few days of her staying holed up in this room alone weeping hadn't been in her mind- they had really happened. And now she supposed that Ellie's being here was real too. All of it was true.

"But it can't be…" she whimpered, "It just can't be…"

"What can't be, honey?" Ellie asked.

"It can't be true. I won't let it be true. It wasn't supposed to happen like this- not like this…"

"It was an accident, Cat. Just an accident."

"I can't live without…oh my God…I can't live without…" She couldn't even say his name. His name alone would have been too painful for her to even speak.

"Shh, yes you can…yes you can..." Ellie was murmuring as she rocked Cat back and forth.

"It hurts…" Cat sobbed, "Oh God, Ellie, it hurts so bad…"

"I know, sweetheart. I know it does." Her eyes briefly went to the cracked bedroom door, then reaverted to Cat.

From outside in the hallway, Edgar stood very still as he watched the scene inside the bedroom. His face was wracked with an overwhelming bleakness as he looked at the two women, but especially when he looked at Cat. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he turned away, pressing his face into his palm with a heavy sigh, ragged with what could have been mistaken for tears of his own…

* * *

Hours later, when Cat had cried herself to sleep, Ellie emerged from the bedroom, her face tired and somber. She quietly shut the door behind her, then padded down the hallway and down the stairs of the quiet, darkened house in search of Edgar.

She found him in his father's study, the entire room dark, save for a single lamp on the large desk he sat at. A bottle of Jack Daniels was sitting in front of him, a half empty glass directly beside that. Edgar was staring at the glass with a blind, glazed over numbness, sitting absolutely still in the chair.

As Ellie approached him, he made no movements, and said nothing for a long moment. "How is she?" he asked dully.

"She's sleeping." Ellie answered, "Edgar, you need to get some rest yourself. You look terrible."

He gave a small snort, his mouth upturning bitterly "She's sleeping," he repeated, his words slightly slurring, "That's good. Then I'll be able to actually get in bed without feeling her entire body tense up. I can even hold her for a few hours and pretend she still loves me."

Ellie was shaking her head dismissively, "That's ridiculous, Edgar, you know Cat loves you."

But he acted as though he didn't hear her, only tipping the bottle, pouring more of the amber colored liquid into the glass, "You see…I can only hold her when she's sleeping, Ellie- she won't let me lay a finger on her if she's awake." He took a sip from the glass, giving a short grimace as he swallowed, "We haven't made love in over six months, did you know that? She stopped wanting to. She was so worried sleeping with me would be betraying Him…" he shook his head "It's just…so damn funny, isn't it? She's engaged to marry me," he touched his chest, "But she's worried about being unfaithful to Him…" he clumsily waved his hand outward, "Isn't that funny, Ellie? Isn't it just the most hilarious thing you've ever heard in your life?"

Ellie was coming around the desk, taking the glass out of Edgar's hand and setting it down, "Edgar, listen you're drunk and you need to go to bed-"

"No, no, I take it back," he said shaking his head, "That's not the most hilarious thing you've ever heard of, is it?_ I'm_ what's hilarious. I'm the joke. Not her, not even him- it's…" he gave a little chuckle, "It's me. See a long time ago, I…I got this idea in my head…that if you sacrificed for the people you loved- if you gave them everything they wanted…they'd actually love you back. I gave up my photography for my dad and took a job that I _can't fucking stand_…and now he's going to die-"

"Edgar, don't say that, you don't know it for-"

"And now _I'm_ stuck having to be him for the rest of my life. I did everything I could to see Cat became a successful model. I thought that if I could give her more than He could…she would love me more then she loved Him. It made so much sense to me back then…" He shook his head in apparent self disgust, "God…I was such a _fucking idiot_! How could I have been that _stupid_?!"

"C'mon," she said, trying to take him by the arms and help him out of the chair, "C'mon let's just go to bed, alright?"

"I couldn't keep her by being the good guy," he was mumbling, "I tried, Ellie. I really did… but I just couldn't. So I tried being the bad guy…" he gave a mirthless, broken laugh, "And I couldn't even get that right, could I? I just fucked that up too. She's upstairs lying in that bed even worse…because of me."

"Edgar, Heath's dying had nothing to do with you." Ellie said briskly. He laughed then- a sharp, grating sound. She looked into his glazed, blue eyes and saw that they were shining with unshed tears,

"That's right, Ellie." He said drily, "He's dead… and it was just an accident, just a horrible accident…" She threw one of his arms over her shoulder blades and used her free arm to clasp around his lean waist, while the other gripped his hand as she helped him walk towards the door,

Edgar was breathing heavily and she could smell the alcohol on his warm breath. Then she could feel his body shaking. She looked up and saw that he was crying; soft, but brokenhearted sobs escaped from his lips, followed by more mumblings and mutterings,

"I'm sorry…I ju-I just…I love her…I didn't mean to her hurt her like…like…oh _God_, I just love her so…oh Dad…Dad, what do I…how do I…" the words became lost in his weeping.

"You need sleep." Ellie was saying, "You just need to get some sleep…"

She led him out of the room and up the stairs, trying to keep her mind focused upon getting Edgar to bed- and not on the things he had confessed aloud in his drunkenness. She was far too tired and weary herself to think and worry about all of that…

* * *

The night air was still and cool.

Cat sat on the balcony outside of her and Edgar's bedroom and stared out at the city skyline in solemn silence. For what was the first time in days, she hadn't been crying. The raw hysteria of grief that she'd first experienced had given way to a more withdrawn, solemn kind of mourning. It was true that thinking of Heath was still enough to make the tears well in her eyes. But she was becoming better at refusing to let them fall down her face, or the sobs escape her lips. She was more calm about it now- whatever pain she still felt she was able to internalize, so that she alone would know she was feeling it.

Some things however had still not changed. She didn't eat very much. She kept to herself often. He was always in her thoughts. And she still dreamed of him.

The dreams, Cat knew, would probably never end. Nor would the unexplainable, but undeniably powerful feeling she had of Heath's presence. Some days it was as though nothing had changed- that he was merely back at home, still working in The Heights, waiting for her to come back to him. On those days, he had never run away. He wasn't dead. He was still there waiting for her- not her waiting for him when he was never coming back…

Cat allowed her eyes to drift shut. She felt the gentle breeze of the wind and shivered, the hairs on her arms standing up on edge,

"How can you be gone,"she whispered softly, "When I can still feel you with me?"

"Cat?"

She sharply turned her head at the sound of Ellie's voice. The older woman stood in the double doorway of the balcony, arms folded across her chest as she looked over at her,

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Cat turned back around to look at the skyline, "It's peaceful." She murmured, "I've always loved looking at the lights- ever since I first got here."

"I know. I understand why- they're beautiful…" They both were silent for a few moments, then Ellie spoke again,

"Look, Cat…I have to go back home. I've been here long enough- I need to get back to Harry and Henry,"

"I thought you said you left Harry with Mrs. Jenkinson," Cat said, referring to the middle-aged neighbor who lived down the road from her old house, to which Ellie nodded,

"I did. But I can't expect her to keep him forever. Besides…I miss that baby too much."

A small smile turned up Cat's lips, "You love him, don't you?" she murmured, to which Ellie nodded firmly,

"Damn right I do…" then she gave a wry shrug, "And I know I better get back to that house before that brother of yours burns it to the ground!" Cat nodded in sardonic agreement at that, as Ellie commented,

"You've been out here for hours."

Cat gave her a bleak, half smile, "Have I? It doesn't seem that way. You've been gone a while. Were you at the hospital?"

Ellie nodded, her facial expression suddenly becoming more somber. Cat noticed and frowned a little, "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Cat…while I was there, the doctor treating Mr. Linton came and talked to the family. Since he's been in the coma for over two weeks with no change and still hasn't woken up…he wants them to consider taking Mr, Linton off the breathing machine."

Cat stared at her, "You mean…let him die?"

Ellie nodded again, "Yes."

"Well…are they going to do it?"

"There seems to be a division in the family. Isabella and Linda seem to think that it's the one last thing that they can do for him. They both agree that he wouldn't want to go on like this any longer. But Edgar…" she let her voice trail off, but Cat was already nodding understandingly,

"He won't do it."

"No, he won't. And before the stroke, Mr. Linton gave Edgar power of attorney. So he gets to decide."

"God…" Cat sighed, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Cat, listen." Ellie's tone became more serious, "I think you need to come to the hospital and talk to him. I want you to." But Cat was already shaking her head in refusal,

"Ellie…there's nothing I can do!" she answered, "I mean what- what am I expected to do about any of this?! It's none of my business."

"None of your business? Cat, Edgar is your fiancée!"

"So that means I have the right to tell him to pull the plug on his own father?! That's ridiculous! I'd be better off just staying out of it!"

"Fine then!" Ellie's voice was escalating into a yell, "Don't persuade him into doing anything, but don't just sit here and do nothing! Get your skinny little ass over to that hospital and just be there, Cat! Hold his hand, hug him, sit next to him, listen to him if he wants to talk- Just be there for him!"

"Ellie, I just don't know if I have it in me right now to try and help someone else when I still can't-"

"_Stop it_!" Ellie suddenly snapped, her voice as sharp as a whip, "Just _stop it_, Cat! Do you hear me? Stop with this mourning and pining after Heath, and just get the hell over it!"

"He's dead, Ellie!" she shrieked, "He's not gone on some road trip or vacation- he's never coming back! Ever!"

"That's right, Cat. He's not coming back-so that means you have a good cry, then get up, and get on with your life! You don't live the rest of your life like it's some damn wake! You don't make the rest of the people in your life suffer because you lost him- especially when those people love and worry about you so much. That doesn't make me feel sorry for you- it makes me think you're spoiled and pathetic."

"Shut up and leave me alone!" Cat seethed through eyes that were beginning to brim, "You don't understand- none of you could ever understand all that he meant to-"

"I understand more than you think." She retorted coldly, "Probably more than you do yourself. Take a piece of advice and get in that house and fix your face- he's not worth all the tears you're crying. He's not worth a single one."

"What?!" Cat breathed in angry horror, "How could you say something like that? How when you practically helped Dad raise him? How, when you knew him?"

A muscle was working in Ellie's jaw and suddenly she too almost seemed on the verge of tears, "Because I _do_ know him." She muttered, her voice like a knife, "I _know_ him, Cat- even more than you do."

Cat frowned then, looking at Ellie queerly, "What do you mean?" she asked, "What are you talking about?"

Ellie stared at her in stubborn silence for a long moment, saying nothing. At last, she merely shook her head, "Just…listen. What you're doing to Edgar because of this…what you're doing to yourself- it's wrong, Cat. All of it is wrong. And you know it. You need to let Heath go- d'you hear me? He's dead. You can't change that. But you can make sure you still hold onto what you've still got. Hold onto your job, Cat, your job as a successful model. Hold onto your fiancée- he's a wonderful man who loves you. Hold onto those things, and let Heath go. Let him go and move on with your life-before it crumbles around you and you don't even have one to live anymore."

Cat's tears were rolling down her cheeks in slow, fat droplets, falling onto her shirt and staining it. She looked straight ahead at the skyline as Ellie spoke, pressing her lips together tightly. A long silence followed, where neither of then said anything.

Finally, Cat murmured, "I know…I know he's gone. It's just-" she shook her head through her tears, letting her voice drop to a whisper, "I just don't know how to live without him. I don't even know where how to st-start!"

Ellie laid a hand on her arm, "Come with me to the hospital." She replied softly, "Why don't we start with that?"

Cat hesitated for a few more seconds, then slowly nodded her head, sniffling and wiping at her eyes, "Okay." She whispered. "Okay…"

* * *

Cat hesitated for a few moments as she and Ellie approached the entrance to Gregory Linton's hospital room. Edgar was inside alone, his back to them as he looked down at the unconscious old man in the bed. Linda and Isabella had already left, they'd met them on their way out as Ellie and Cat were coming in.

Cat bit her lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden. As if able to sense this, Ellie gave her arm an encouraging squeeze, "Go on." She urged her softly, "It's alright. Just go and talk to him."

Cat nodded and without another word went forward and into the room. Ellie lingered in the doorway, choosing not to go inside. Instead, she chose to watch as Cat slowly approached Edgar from behind. Her hand touched his shoulder and he looked up at her, their gazes locking with one another. For a long time, neither moved.

Then, his hand came up and rested on hers. Cat used her other hand to gently stroke his face.

Edgar abruptly stood up from the chair and pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly as he buried his face in her hair. Cat held him and stroked his back as he cried silently. He kissed her hair, then her temple, then her cheek. When their lips met, Edgar kissed Cat with a grief stricken desperation, still crying as he held her head with his hands.

Ellie reached for the door knob, and pulled the door closed, giving them their privacy. She sighed with weary satisfaction before walking off down the hall.

* * *

Cat was there with Edgar when they took Gregory Linton off the breathing machines. She held his hand, feeling the nearly painful way he squeezed it as they heard the monotonous, beeping tone that signaled his father's passing. She went with him, Isabella and Linda to the funeral home to handle all of the arrangements. She even offered to go with him for the reading of the will, but Edgar told her that she didn't have to.

She was surprised at how well she was able to keep herself composed throughout the entire ordeal- she was surprised at how much she was able to suppress the grief she still had over losing Heath.

Perhaps it was the funeral and all its arrangements that helped, in a strange, morbid kind of way. As she helped put Edgar's father to rest, Cat suddenly found herself imagining that she was doing all of those things for Heath. That she was giving her opinion on what kind of coffin he should be buried in, or what kind of tombstone she liked best. It was a bizarrely easy thing for her to imagine she found.

The funeral however, was harder to endure. Cat sat in between Edgar and Isabella, only half there in consciousness. Her gaze was distant and blank, but her mind was full.

She listened to the many speeches and eulogizing that Gregory Linton's friends and family gave him- but all the while she was thinking of what was in her heart to say about Heath, how she would have eulogized him at his funeral. As people reminisced about old times with the wealthy businessman, she thought of countless days and nights spent with Heath when they were still teenagers back home; in the house, in the forest, by the river, in their tree, in the Heights. She thought of the Indian Chief motorcycle that Dad had given him, and the way she'd held onto him as he drove it for miles into the wilderness surrounding their home. She thought of the days she'd woken him up to watch the sunrise with her, and the nights she snuck into his room when she couldn't sleep so that he could hold her to his chest and stroke her back and hair until she became drowsy. She thought of his eyes- piercing and green. His hair that was sometimes black as night, but in the summertime tinted with golden streaks. His body had been lean and smooth, she'd only come up to the center of his chest, he'd grown so tall over the years. His hands- with the long fingers and vice-like grip, roughened by laboring in The Heights, the hands that touched her as only Heath's could…

The remembering was harder than anything else. It hurt- it hurt so badly. By the time the funeral had come to an end, Cat was genuinely sobbing, her cries blending into the sound of the others mourners. Edgar held her around the shoulder, kissing her forehead as she leaned against his shoulder. He would never know that the tears she so bitterly shed at his father's funeral were for another…

She still hadn't stopped crying by the time the procession got to the cemetery. She watched the coffin being lowered into the ground with the others and felt a dull ache shoot through her almost painfully. She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch anymore. The sound of that first clod of earth hitting the wood of the coffin echoed through her ears. A single sob escaped her lips.

_I love you, Heath,_ she thought_, Always, I love you. Goodbye…_

* * *

She sat in front of the mirror in the bedroom, combing her hair. The strokes Cat took were slow and apathetic. She stared at her reflection, numbly, ignoring the way the brush crackled and snapped at the hair.

The door opened and Edgar came inside. She stopped brushing her hair. Their eyes met in the reflection and held for a long moment.

"How's your mother?" Cat asked him at last.

"She's sleeping." He answered. "Isabella's sitting with her now." More silence, then, "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

He nodded his head, murmuring, "Good." Cat looked at him closely. His face was full of so much fatigue and melancholy. He had that distinct look of someone who is either too overwhelmed or exhausted to cry. She recognized that look- she had it on her own face.

"You must be so tired." She said, but he shook his head,

"No, I'm alright. Really, I am." He began walking closer to her, taking slow, languid steps. He ran his hands over the back of her head, combing his fingertips through her hair. His touch drifted to her shoulder, grazing the bare skin there. Cat didn't turn around, looking straight into the mirror. When their eyes met again, she saw something new in his eyes: desire.

"Ellie's going back home tomorrow," she said quietly, "I have to go with her to the airport."

Edgar nodded, "I'll go with you."

"You don't have to if-"

"No. I want to." His fingers were still stroking her skin. "I want to."

Cat looked down in her lap where her hands were resting. Her eyes went to the ring finger on her left hand. The diamond engagement ring that Edgar had given her sparkled and caught the light in the room. For the past few months, she'd almost forgotten that it was even there. She touched the biggest diamond in it once with her index finger.

Edgar noticed that she was looking at the ring. He came around to her side, kneeling down on one knee before her. He took her left hand in both of his, looking up into her face with simple earnestness. Cat looked at him closely. She saw the shadows beneath his eyes that had not been there the last time he'd knelt down before her like this. There were the smallest start of wrinkles, at the corners of his eyes. And there, at the place where his temples met his hairline, there was a small patch of blonde hair that had been invaded by silver.

But then she looked into his eyes- his gentle, blue eyes, and all that the exhaustion had done to imperfect his features seemed nonexistent to her. He was still Edgar. He was still handsome. That had never changed.

Edgar 's thumbs rubbed over the skin of her hand slowly. He gave a single, quiet sigh before murmuring, "Catherine Rowena Ernshawl…I love you."

Cat let her eyes drift shut when she realized what he was doing…again. There was such a bittersweetness to it this third time around- now after so much had happened.

"I…" Edgar paused, swallowing once. "I will always…_always_ love you." His voice was becoming increasingly hoarse with emotion she knew wasn't just sadness, "I don't ever want to know what it's like to not have you here with me. You're all I want. You're all I ever dreamed of. You're-" he broke off abruptly, steeling himself against what seemed like tears. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper, "You're the only dream I have left. So will you, _Cat_... please agree to marry me, and become my wife?"

Cat's own eyes were swimming now. Her throat felt tight and her hands inside of Edgar's were trembling. She looked down at him in silence for a few moments.

She raised his hand up to her lips, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Then another. And another.

Cat slid off the chair, and sank down to join Edgar on the floor. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him without one word. It was long and heartfelt- on both sides.

Cat could feel the wetness on his cheeks- it mingled with the wetness on her own. She tasted his tears with hers- the taste of their grief. When their lips finally parted, they kept their faces close to one another. Edgar's touch was so soft and gentle- and yes, it felt good to her. So very good.

"Make love to me." She whispered to him. She felt the surprise come over him- it looked back at her though his eyes as he stared at her for a moment,

"Are you…are you sure?" he asked her, and she saw the uncertainty, the fear he felt that she would turn him out again.

As if to assuage his fears, Cat leaned forward kissing him more forcefully. She held his hands and brought them to her body, guiding them to touch her. "You're the most gentle, kind man that I've ever known," she murmured when her lips broke away from his, "I want to be your wife…even if I don't deserve to be. And I want you to make love to me, Edgar. Now."

He didn't hesitate this time, kissing her with a fervent passion that she responded to. They were still kissing one another when Edgar picked her up and carried her to the bed, when he laid her down and began to undress her.

It was the very first time that she and Edgar had made love that Cat didn't think about Heath. In fact, when even the beginnings of a thought about him tried to enter her mind, she pushed it away, banishing it to a place in her mind that couldn't be touched or retrieved…


	37. Chapter 37: The Wedding

_A/N: Hello lovely readers/reviewers! The story continues- finally. Sorry this update took so long, you guys. I know I've said it before, but I really didn't mean for it to. And also let me just send out a guarantee that this isn't going to keep dragging on- Heath will either be back in the next chapter, or the one after that...but I'm gonna shoot for the next chapter just because I know it's probably what you've all been waiting so patiently for. I appreciate it and your lovely feedback more than I can say. Enjoy the update and thanks for the love--Jess_

**Chapter Thirty Seven: The Wedding **

Cat and Edgar were married one month later, at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.

Cat had wanted something simple and as little time consuming as possible. The gardens suited her perfectly; it was a quiet, peaceful spot that accommodated no more than two hundred people, which suited her fine. Together with the caterer, wedding planner, and florist, they were able to put the whole thing together in a matter of weeks.

Cat chose a simple dress, despite protests from Isabella and Linda. She wore her hair loose, streaming down her shoulders in loose curls, with only one white rose wound around a strand of her hair.

All in all there were just over one hundred guests; closest of family and friends, of which the Lintons had many.

Following a ceremony among the roses, the reception took place on the Lily pool, among the lights of soft candelabras, and a made up dance floor by the side of the lake. All in all, it was beautiful.

The wedding day was the first in weeks that Cat saw Edgar look truly and completely happy. He almost looked like his old self; warm, and at ease. He'd even begun to laugh and joke the way he used to in the past few days. He was putting on weight, which was good because in the weeks in the aftermath of Gregory's stroke, he'd lost too much.

"I love you." He'd said to her when they were having their first dance together at the reception. It was his favorite thing to say to her- whenever Edgar told Cat that he loved her, his face seemed to light up. His eyes took on that unconditional tenderness that he saved only for her. When Edgar said 'I love you' it sounded more as though he were making some kind of vow, rather than just stating how he felt.

Cat smiled up at him, feeling satisfied to see him so happy, "I love you too," she answered, and she meant it. Edgar was a steady, kind man. A good one. He had been so strong during all of this, and never once took his pain out on anyone besides himself. Perhaps she didn't love him in the way that he deserved to be loved, but she did love him in her own way.

_He needs me_, she had realized, _He needs me to support him. He needs me to love him. _

Her eyes briefly left his and went over to Ellie, who was sitting at the wedding party table. Harry was in her lap. She'd chosen to bring him with her, rather than leave him again back home. He was already bigger than Cat remembered; soon he would be crawling. He could already sit up and roll over on his own, Ellie boasted. To Cat, he was the spitting image of an Ernshawl; dark hair, dark eyes. Full lips, high cheek bones. He was going to look just like her father when he got older, that she could already tell.

Later on, when the party had settled down into the sit down dinner, Isabella stood up from her seat at the head table, lightly clinking her knife against her champagne flute, "Alright everybody, I'd like to take this opportunity to propose my maid of honor toast!" She smiled and cleared her throat, looking down at Cat and Edgar, "Guys, I just want you to start off by saying that I love the two of you so much. I look at the two of you and I see a two people who are crazy about each other. These past few months have been…pretty tough." She began getting visibly emotional, her eyes watering, "Losing Dad wasn't easy on any of us…but you two managed to get through it stronger than ever. You give one another comfort, friendship, respect, affection, and love. You're lovers, but you're also best friends- and that's just the way it should be. I just can't believe my little brother found his true love before I did!" Everyone laughed, "But I'm glad that he was lucky enough to find her- because from seeing the two you together, I know that happily ever after can come true for me too…" she reached up and carefully dabbed beneath her eyelids, laughing shakily, " Edgar, I know you'll be a good husband- you learned from our dad- who was the best. Catherine, thank you for coming into my brother's life. You light up his world, and I know he loves you more than anything." She raised her glass, "To the bride and groom!"

"To the bride and groom!" Everyone repeated, drinking from their glasses, then going into hearty applause.

It began to subside when the best man stood to make his toast, but suddenly, there came the sound of a single pair of hands clapping, and loud, hooting,

"Whooooo! Yeah! To the bride and groom!"

Everyone turned around in their seats towards the sound of the obnoxious cheers, Cat looked, and her stomach fell.

Henry was standing a few feet away from the cake and guestbook table. He wore a rumpled tuxedo that was open at the shirt, the tie loosened around his neck. There was a five hour shadow on his chin, and a bloodshot look in his eyes. He had a champagne flute in his hand.

Even from across the garden, Cat could tell he was drunk. She exchanged a pained look with Ellie_, What do we do? _her gaze asked._  
_

Henry staggered through the path of tables toward the dance floor, still whooping,

"Yeah!" he cried out, his voice gravelly, "Let's all down our glasses to the 'perfect couple'! Love and happiness to Cat and Edgar!" he raised his glass hurriedly, spilling champagne over the rim. Laughing, Henry faced the crowd of tables set before the bridal party table, making his voice loud and projecting,

"As brother of the bride, I would just like to propose a little toast to my baby sister in honor of her wedding day…even if I wasn't invited to the ceremonies!"

Cat was sitting very still in her chair. It was true that she hadn't bothered to invite Henry to the wedding. From what Ellie had told her beforehand, he hadn't seemed all that interested in coming. He still drank, he still ignored Harry, he still neglected his own personal care. What would he care that she was getting married?

Edgar's hand around hers tightened, and he murmured, "Do you want me to-"

"No." she whispered back, "If you try and stop him, he'll just make an even bigger scene. I know him."

Henry was still laughing mockingly, studying her with an ironic tilt to his head, "So now you're a regular married woman, huh Cat?" he asked, "That's great. I mean it. It's all really swell. Edgar's a damn nice guy. You couldn't do better. You're both good looking, make good money, live in a mansion, have great careers. Isa-Isabella's right. It all looks like the makings of Happily Ever After… There's just," he raised his index finger, "There's just something I don't really understand and maybe- maybe you can help me out here, huh?" He wiped the back of his hand across his nose, sniffing loudly before taking a long sip of champagne, "Whatever happened to you…and Heath?"

Cat sucked in a sharp breath, and through the touch of his hand, could feel Edgar tense up. Henry was beginning to walk closer to their table, his steps slow and crooked due to his obvious intoxication.

"C'mon, Cat," he was saying roughly, "I asked you a question. What happened to you and Heath? Heath and you? I'm a little confused here, and maybe I'm a little off but…last time I checked _Heath_ was the unlucky son of a bitch that you were in love with. Am-am I right or did I miss something here?"

Cat felt her face flood with heat and she sat very still in her chair as she heard the low murmur that arose among the wedding guests. Edgar's hand was squeezing hers even tighter, "Henry, I think you should go now." He said quietly. But Henry ignored him, only walking closer to the table. He bent down a little, trying to stare into Cat's lowered face,

"What happened, Cat? Hmm? You two have another fight?" He shook his head a moment later, "No, no, that's not it. You two fought before, you always got over it. What else could it be? Were you trying to make him do something romantic? Sweep in here and carry you away like some kind of prince? No…that's too sappy for you, isn't it? You're not the romantic type." He paused, tapping his chin with his free fingertips, "Okay. So that leaves money. Now I can admit, money's always a good reason- even to do something as stupid and pointless as this. Modeling can only last so long, and it's nice to still have that cushion of financial security, isn't it? Make sure we still get those Gucci shoes for Christmas, right? Money's a damn good reason when you put it that way. Problem is…we both know it's not the _real _reason, don't we Cat?"

She dared to raise her eyes and meet his gaze. Henry smiled and gave a small laugh,

"_There_ it is! Look at her face! Hot damn, if looks could kill! Shit, I must have hit it right on the nose that time!"

"Henry, I want you to leave," Edgar said firmly, "Now."

"Alright, alright, Cat." Henry was already saying, "Now, I get it. Now we're getting somewhere. That means that it must have been because he left you. He skipped out, and you didn't like it, did you? The shoe never feels that good when it's on the other foot. Now you're throwing your little temper tantrum- _you'll_ show _him_, huh?" He laughed again- a harsh and mirthless sound,

"You figure fucking Edgar wasn't enough- no, you'll marry him too. That'll get old Heath _right_ where he lives, won't it?" There were small gasps of shock from some of the guests, as the murmurs increased. Cat continued to stare at him, as from underneath the table , her knees began shaking and her heartbeat quickened.

Edgar abruptly stood up from his chair, coming around the table and grabbing ahold of Henry's arm. Two of the groomsmen flanked him and moved to aid him in surrounding Henry. Edgar's face was as tight and hardened as his voice as he said, "Alright, that's enough. I want you out of here."

Henry finally seemed to acknowledge his presence and smiled at him wryly, "You know Edgar, I gotta hand it to you. You're taking all of this really well, better than a lot of men woulda taken it. I mean," he gave another harsh chuckle, "You can just….ha ha..you can just _look_ at her and see she's in love with another man, can't you? Isn't it," he turned out a little and let his drunken gaze sweep across the wedding guest tables, "Isn't it obvious to you people? Can't _you_ tell?" he laughed again when he was met with nothing but appalled silence, then turned back to Edgar, "But that's, that's really big of you. And I mean it, it is. There's not a lot of men who would even fuck another woman who always has another man in her eyes, much less marry her! It makes you wonder who she _really_ thinks about when all the _action's_ going on, doesn't it? What's _really_ making her so excited? What _really_ makes her so hot?"

Edgar jerked Henry roughly by the collar, "I said, that's _enough_," he muttered, and tried to begin to lead him off the floor with the others. Henry though, suddenly shoved the other two men off of him, and jerked himself out of Edgar's grasp,

"No, don't do that, Edgar. Don't take the _easy_ way out. Why don't you try being a man and facing the truth? Boy, that'd be a real change of pace for you, wouldn't it? No more hiding behind the thick wallet or Mercedes Benz. Strip all that shit away and you're really not all that impressive are you? Hell, after that, all you are is pretty damn pathetic. God forbid you lose all that cash one day and Heath has a few bucks. That'd make you find out what the deal _really_ is, wouldn't it? That'd make you find out what it was like to be Him all those months…"

"Shut up…" Edgar murmured quaveringly. His face had seemed to pale and that weariness he'd had for so many months after his father's stroke had seemed to reappear almost immediately.

Henry made a sound of astonishment, as though he had made a great discovery, "Ohhhh, now _that's_ it! That's what it really boils down to, isn't it Edgar? Being Him. That's what you _want_, isn't it? If you could just get five minutes of that, then you'd _really_ have it made, wouldn't you?"

Cat seemed to finally find her tongue, "Henry don't!" she cried out to him warningly, but he ignored her,

"Ohhh, don't coddle him, Cat. Don't lie to the poor guy. You do that too much. I mean, you're married now, the least you could do is have a little respect and be honest. You could've at least _told_ him he'd never be Heath to you, no matter how much shit he buys you, no matter how many vacations you get to Arbua, no matter how hard and rough he fucks you 'cause he thinks that's how hard and rough old Heath knew you liked it-"

"Son of a _bitch_!" Edgar suddenly shouted, pulling back his fist and smashing it against Henry's jaw. As her brother went straight to the ground from the force of the blow, Cat stood straight up to her feet, rushing out and around the table. The groomsmen were already hastily trying to hold a breathless, fuming Edgar back from Henry who was still lying on the floor, laughing emptily.

Cat ignored the gasps and little cries of appalled shock from the guests and went to her brother, kneeling down on the ground next to him, taking him by the arm. "Henry, c'mon," she demanded sharply, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, "Let's go. Get up and lets _go_!" She looked up and saw Ellie at her side. They exchanged a quick, grim glance before Ellie went to Henry's other arm to aid her. They had to practically lift him up from the ground, as he was so intoxicated, he stumbled several times in trying to get to his feet. Somehow, they managed to get him up and led him off the dance floor and off to a secluded part of the garden near the parking lot.

"Go and get someone to call him a cab," Cat instructed Ellie, "He can't drive back to wherever he came from, not like this."

"Alright," Ellie agreed, but hesitated, "Are you gonna be okay?" she murmured. Cat avoided her gaze, nodding numbly, but not saying anything. Ellie went back towards the party, leaving her alone with Henry, who lay on the grass, his eyes half closed as he mumbled unintelligible words to himself.

Cat knelt down, eyes shooting daggers at him as she struggled to compose herself. She shook him brusquely by the shoulder, "Wake up." She demanded, her voice like ice, "I said wake _up_, Henry! Look at me!"

He groggily cracked his eyes open. They wandered blindly for a few moments before focusing on her. A crooked smile turned up his lips. Cat wanted to slap it off his face.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she asked, "What makes you think you have the right to just show up t my wedding and humiliate me and Edgar like that?! What give you the right?! You're just a bitter, cowardly drunk who can't even take care of himself, much less his own son!"

The smile seemed to fade from Henry's face, but that didn't stop him from continuing, "You're _not_ okay…are you, Cat? You can tell that to Edgar, Ellie, all the rest of these people…but_ we_ know you're not okay, don't we? We both know you haven't been okay since the first day you stepped foot in New York."

"You don't know what you're talking about-" she tried to say, but he cut her off,

"You didn't count on it being this hard, did you? You thought you were tough enough to live without him for a while. That _he_ needed _you_- and not the other way around."

Cat could feel the grittiness forming behind her eyes and the tightening sensation return to her throat. She tried to swallow and nearly choked, "Henry…don't…" she murmured. He only went on talking as though he hadn't heard her,

"And now the walls are closing in, aren't they? You're seeing yourself being buried in this little trap, this grave you dug for yourself. You can close your eyes and pretend it's not there- but that only works for so long, doesn't it, Cat? Sooner or later, you're going to suffocate."

Her eyes were welling up, and she blinked furiously to banish the tears away, "_Stop_."

"Just get the guts to walk away, Cat. Just do it. You know I don't like it…but at least I can admit it. You're only living a half-life if you're not with Him."

Two tears fell down Cat's cheeks. She dashed them away. "Henry…" she said his name through gritted teeth, "Heath...is _dead_. Do you hear me? This is the only life I have left. He's dead!"

Henry stared at her in silence for a few moments. He pushed himself up until he was sitting upright on the ground, then shook his head, "You don't really believe that, do you Cat? Not deep down. You can fool Edgar in thinking you've bought into that- but you know it's not true…don't you? Late at night, when you're lying awake in and bed and all is so quiet that you can hear what's going on inside of you- that's when you can just _feel _that's he alive, can't you? You can't even explain it to yourself, but you _just know_ he's out there somewhere." He looked into her face and chuckled again. But this time, he managed to raise his hand up and brought it to her face, gently stroking her cheek with his fingertips, "I know, Cat." He whispered, "I know…"

Cat was crying now, and this time didn't bother to wipe away the tears. She let her head fall forward until it hit Henry's shoulder, her fists clenching his shirt as she began to quietly weep. She felt one hand on her back, and another one stroking her hair. Her arms shifted so that they were encircling his neck and she clung onto her brother as she cried, letting him hold her. She really believed that it was the very first time they'd ever embraced each other like this- the first time in their entire lives…

"The cab's on it's way." Ellie's voice from behind her startled Cat, and she quickly pulled out of Henry's arms, wiping at her eyes,

"Cat, why don't you go back to the party, I'll sit with Henry. It's your wedding day."

She nodded in agreement, "O-okay. Thank you, Ellie." She rose somewhat unsteadily to her feet and wiped at her eyes again. "Tell the cab driver to take him to a hotel. Then get him a plane ticket back home- have everything put on my charge card."

"Are you sure?" Ellie looked at her uncertainly, but Cat nodded again,

"Yes, do it." She started to walk away, but halted in her steps at the sound of Henry's voice calling after her,

"You're not crazy, Cat. He's alive. You know he is. And you know he'll come back someday. You _know_ it…"

Cat bit her lip hard to keep from bursting into tears anew. She wavered a little on her feet, but managed to steady herself and walk back in the direction of the wedding party without another word or glance behind her.

* * *

After the wedding, time seemed to go by in a blur for Cat.

She buried herself in work- it didn't matter what kind of work, so long as it kept her busy.

Work could mean going to various modeling jobs for the agency. She wasn't going to Europe anymore but that didn't mean that there wasn't plenty enough within the country to keep her busy. She did photoshoots, runway shows, go sees and publicity appearances just as she had before.

Work might mean spending time with her mother in law to try and keep the older woman from sinking into a depression from her husband's death. She and Isabella coaxed Linda into attending Broadway plays, art openings at Isabella's art studio and other social functions. She played the part of the dutiful daughter as well as she could, and it did seem to help.

And work could also mean being there for her new husband- ensuring he didn't overwork himself as both the new head of Gregory's company, and the head of his family. She didn't have to do much physically speaking- Edgar wasn't the type of man who liked to discuss or display his grief too openly. What he most required and appreciated was the kind of quiet support and love that Ellie had urged Cat to give him. So she tried to do just that. She stayed up for him when he worked late. She let him make love to her when he wanted to, and even forced herself to like it most of the time. She suggested that the two of them go away together every once in a while to one of the Linton's various cabins or condos in vacation spots around the world. She tried to keep her mood as light and at ease as possible, so as to keep his at the same level. And eventually, Edgar did get better. He began to smile again, then laugh. They began going out again together, and he was pleasant and humorous as he had once been. Every day he got a little better, and before long Cat was confident that he as well as the other Lintons were on their way back to a semblance of their normal lives.

Of course things weren't exactly as they had used to be. Due to Edgar's new position, his time at work had dramatically increased, as he spent much of his time sitting in meetings or attending conferences, or meeting with other high level corporate executives for numerous engagements. Cat knew that Edgar hated all of it, but said nothing, knowing he wouldn't leave it anyway. He felt a too strong responsibility to his dad to ever do that.

For herself, Cat gave very little thought. She buried herself so deeply into the work and duties of being Catherine Linton, the famous supermodel and Catherine Linton, the wife of Edgar Linton, that she hardly allowed herself any opportunity to think about the life she'd once led as Cat Ernshawl- the girl who'd answered to no one but herself.

After a while, it just became easier that way. Thinking about the previous life she'd led didn't do anything but cause her to think of Heath- which only tempted her to sink back down into the pit of depression she'd begun to try and climb out of.

The only time she allowed herself to think of just what had happened to Cat Ernshawl was late at night, when she was lying in bed, curled onto her side with her eyes closed to the rest of the world. That's when she remembered the girl she'd used to be- the girl who had allowed herself to slip away into a shell of who she once was. The girl who was still in love with the boy who'd stolen her heart the moment she'd seen him in the back doorway of her kitchen…

Every summer, she went back home to The Heights for a few weeks, pretending that it was just for a visit with Henry instead of an occasion to give him money and ensure that Harry was being at least decently taken care of. Each time they went it nearly broke Cat's heart to see the ever worsening condition of her old home.

The house had always been old, but now Henry was just letting it run to neglect, allowing the paint on the outside to peel, the wood of the porch to rot, the furnace to break down, broken windows to be unmended, and so many other things. When they visited Henry was for the most part, the Henry they'd always known. The change that had come voer him at Francie's death however, had still not gone away. There was still that dull, hollow look in his eyes, that completely detached tone to his voice that never ceased to make Cat paranoid for her brother's state of mental health. He never wanted to talk about Francie, and barely seemed to notice Harry's presence. He never would openly accept the money that Cat brought with her every visit, but she noticed that when she left it on the table by the door, he never removed it either. She figured that he saw it as more for Harry than anything else.

She pitied him. There had never exactly been love between them as kids and there was little chance of that changing now. But nevertheless, she couldn't completely abandon him or cut him off. Perhaps it was because Cat knew that doing a thing like that would have broken her father's heart. Whatever her reasoning, she always made sure that Henry would at least be able to keep the house, and The Heights, Joe still working there, unchanged as ever. For some reason, he was also one of the things about her old home that she never wanted to see changed. Cat never wanted to imagine not having The Heights to come back home to. Ever.

For five years Cat adjusted to her new life. They were slow and difficult years, and some days were hard to get through, but get through them she did. Eventually she became used to her life, and though she didn't like it, the routine of it all gave her a measure of security that was comforting.

Cat came to expect nothing else from her life than what she got now. She asked for nothing more from it. In her mind, there was nothing to wish for.


	38. Chapter 38: The Little Boy

_A/N: I can't believe that it's been since SEPTEMBER since I updated! I feel so so soooooo awful about that you guys, you have no idea. This semester was just insanity though, that's the best excuse I've got. But, I'm on break now, and you better believe I was rushing to update ASAP. This section of the story was always a little rocky for me to plan out too, so I guess my insecurity is a bit to blame as well. I'm so sorry. Hopefully there are still some people out there willing to read, and hopefully (like I'm** really** hoping) there are still people out there still willing to review and let me know what you think of my little story. Thank all of you SO much for your patience, I hope this update is to your satisfaction- Jess ;-) _

**Chapter Thirty Eight: The Little Boy**

"How're you feeling Ellie?" Cat patted the older woman's hand sympathetically as she sat on the edge of the hospital bed beside her. She hoped that Ellie wasn't as uncomfortable as she was in just seeing her hooked up to all the monitors and machines. They were bad enough on their own, but even they hadn't been as bad as that phone call she'd gotten from back home telling her that the woman who'd practically been a second mother to her had had a stroke.

When she'd gotten to the hospital back in her hometown, Cat had gotten the opinion of several doctors in the area who said that though it had been quite a scare, the odds were fair that Ellie would make a decent recovery from it. Presently, she was still a little weakened on her left side from the paralysis, and her memory had been affected in some ways. The important things her mind had retained (mainly who Cat and the other Lintons were, remembering Will, Henry and Harry, etc) But other things commonly slipped her mind. Cat had to frequently remind her that no, she couldn't have Harry come in to her visit, as he was back home and they were in New York City, where Cat had felt most comfortable having her hospitalized, not only for the superior medicine, but for the ease of being able to visit her and still maintain her career schedule.

Ellie smiled at her, as if to give her comfort, "It's nothing honey, really." Her voice was faint and raspy from the medications they'd been giving her. "Really the worst part of all of this has been me worrying about Henry and Harry and how they're getting along without me!"

Cat shook her head reassuringly, "Don't worry about that, okay? I call the house when I can to check on them. Henry and Harry are doing just fine." If she were to be completely honest with herself Cat would admit that this was something that she was only partially convinced of. It was true that she called home to talk to her brother and nephew from time to time, but the phone calls weren't all that reassuring to her. She was able to hear slurring in Henry's voice all too often, and because he didn't have a job, she could only assume that the money she was giving him every month was in some part going to support his drinking habits. In spite of this, he swore to her that he was looking after Harry properly. Cat wanted to believe that he was telling truth if only because she knew that Henry did care for his son, even if he felt nothing for himself.

More than once the idea had entered her mind of proposing taking Harry into her and Edgar's house and taking care of him in New York. The idea never really went beyond being just that however. Cat knew for one that even if Henry could be persuaded to sign his parental rights over to her and Edgar (unlikely in itself), there were still other complications to her adopting her nephew. She was still a model, and still a busy one at that. Her job kept her busy and when she did get time on her own, she wanted it for herself. She wasn't the mothering type, and she never had been. Edgar's job kept him busy as well- even busier than her at times. And though she knew that he had nothing against Harry, she also knew that Edgar would have nevertheless been uncomfortable in taking him in. He wanted them to have children of their own- a topic that had raised more than one argument between them lately. And Cat knew Edgar. He would try and bargain with her; if he agreed to take in Harry, she would have to agree to get pregnant. And that of course, was out of the question.

So she reasoned herself out of bringing Harry to New York to live with her, and hoped for the best in his living with his father.

"Edgar said he'd be by later." She told Ellie, "Him and Isabella."

Ellie shook her head, "Tell them they don't have to bother, I know how busy they are."

"It's not a problem. Edgar's missed seeing you, and Isabella's got to have someone to complain to about her bullshit!" Cat answered wryly. "Lately all she's been doing is bitching about how lonely she is, and how she'll never find anyone to be with."

"I thought she had numerous boyfriends." Ellie said confusingly, to which Cat nodded with a smile,

"She does. And that's the problem. Look, she'll probably start talking about how lonely she is, how she can't find anyone worth showcasing in her art gallery, and how all the available men are pigs. Just reassure her that she's not getting too old, there's a very special guy out there just for her, and that she'll get married soon- that usually shuts her up."

"You have experience with this, don't you?"

"More experience than I can handle." She leaned forward and kissed Ellie on the forehead, then stood up to her feet, "I'd stay longer, but I've got to get going. Try and get some rest okay? I've been trying to convince the doctors to let me take you home with us, but they're pretty stubborn."

"They're doctors, hon. That's a part of their job description."

"Well the more you do what they say, the sooner I can get you out of here. I'll see you tomorrow, Ellie, okay?"

Cat steps down the hall of the hospital were quick and brisk. She didn't look at anyone, keeping her eyes averted down to the floor, even when she was in the elevator and walking out to the parking lot where her car was parked.

She couldn't stand being in hospitals. They made her remember far too many bleak memories that were better left in the past. Every time she was in one, she lost someone she loved. To have Ellie there now was all too chilling.

She couldn't lose Ellie. Not Ellie too. Ellie was really one of the only people she had left that she felt truly understood her. Her father was dead.

And Heath…Heath was…was-

Cat shut her eyes, hastily quelling the surge of emotion that threatened to prick behind them. She swallowed hard and breathed deeply in and out, in and out.

It had gotten easier. She couldn't deny that. There wasn't a day that went by when she didn't think of him, but the pain of losing Heath had lessened more and more as the years went by. She willed it to lessen.

What else was she supposed to do? He was dead. She loved him, she'd die loving him, but that didn't change reality. He was dead, and she was married to someone else. Would Heath have really expected her to be in mourning for him for the rest of her life? To stop living just because he was dead? That would have been unfair- not only to her, but to Edgar, and Cat felt a measure of obligation to him now.

Heath was her past. Edgar was her reality. Edgar was here…Heath was dead.

He was dead.

* * *

"He's not dead? What the hell do you mean he's _not dead_?!"

Edgar's face was ashen as he leaned forward in his chair. He looked across the desk at Louis Kane incredulously, his mouth literally hanging open. His hands gripped the armrests so tight his knuckles were white. "You…you said there was a fire. You said he was never identified among the survivors, that he was dead!"

Kane's own face was grim as he looked back at him. His hands were folded over his belly resolutely, and he gave a heavy sigh, "Edgar, I said that he _may_ be dead. I never said for sure that he was- you were the one who wanted to take that route, remember?"

Edgar was shaking his head, "It can't be him…it can't be…" he muttered to himself, "Are you sure you didn't just make a mistake? See someone who looked like him?"

"Someone who looks like him and has a penchant for watching your house and your wife? I don't think so."

Edgar froze, his eyes widening a little, "He's watching Catherine?" he murmured, to which Kane nodded,

"Yeah. I'm telling you Edgar, it seems like this son of a bitch just came out of thin air. The only reason all this came to my attention was out of sheer luck. One of my buddies who was working with me on this back in the beginning saw him in Tribeca one day a few weeks ago, remembered the physical description, then gave me a call. "

"What was he doing in Tribeca?"

"Apparently, he's passing himself off as some up and coming artist. Trying to get his art into some of the more posh art galleries for an exhibit."

Edgar was massaging his temples his eyes shut tight, "Jesus Christ…" he muttered under his breath.

"What? What is it?"

"Isabella's art gallery is in Tribeca…" he answered, "She's been trying to find a new artist to showcase their work in it for weeks now." He looked up at Kane, the worry etching lines into his face already, "Do you think maybe…"

He didn't need to continue. Kane understood his meaning. He was quiet for a long moment, "It's possible, Edgar. I won't lie to you and say that I don't think that's what this is all about. It would give him easy access to your sister. And through her, somewhat easier access to-"

"Access to Cat." Edgar finished for him bleakly, "Yeah. I know. God..." He rose to his feet and began pacing the room, "I don't know what to do. If she finds out," he shook his head, "If she finds out-"

"Edgar, so what if she does? I mean it has been five years. I thought you said she seemed to be getting over it."

"She did. She does seem to be getting over it. But I'm afraid that…" he paused, "I'm afraid that that's only because she thought he was dead. And if she finds out that we lied to her, that _I_ lied-" He broke off, "I can't let that happen. I can't."

"What do you want to do?"

Edgar was silent for a long time, "I don't know." He said at last, "I don't know."

* * *

There was something bothering Edgar.

Cat had been able to sense it for days. At first it had struck her as something insignificant and fleeting- most likely just a stressful time he was going through with his job, something he eventually got over. But then she began to notice a difference in the behavior he exhibited during those times, and how they so differed from what she was seeing in him at present.

He seemed…nervous. Jumpy and easily agitated. The smallest thing seemed to make him irritated and snappish, things that Edgar never was no matter how stressed he became. At nights, Cat could feel him tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. He was always asking her or Isabella if anything unusual had happened during the day when he was gone, if they'd had any strange calls or seen anyone suspicious around the neighborhood. When she tried to question him as to why he wanted to know, Edgar would always assure her that it wasn't for any particular reason- which he must have been crazy to think she would believe. Cat was worried at this, but she tried to shrug the feeling away, and instead preferred to instead be intensely curious as to what the hell was really going on here.

The two of them sat at the breakfast table, Edgar's gaze cast downward to his plate, seeming to concentrate on the food, although Cat knew he was miles away in his thoughts. She watched him, her expression becoming increasingly impatient.

"Your mother called you last night. She wants to know when we're coming down to Florida to visit."

There was no reply, but she knew that he had heard her. Edgar raised his glass of orange juice to his lips and took a long sip before resuming eating his food. Cat searched his face, hoping he would look up and catch her eye. He didn't.

"By the way, I want a divorce." She said casually. Edgar still said nothing. She gave another impatient sigh,

"Edgar? _Edgar_!"

He blinked, startled, "Wh-what? What was that?"

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying!" Cat shook her head bewilderingly, "What's the matter with you, what's going on?"

Edgar shook his head, the somber look returning to his face, "Nothing." He mumbled, "It's nothing."

"And you really expect me to buy that? I'm not blind, Edgar, something's going on that you don't want me to know about, and I want you to tell me what the hell it is!"

"Catherine, please," Edgar's voice was low and tight, and he still refused to meet her gaze, "_Please_ don't push me on this."

"Edgar whatever it is, it can't be so bad that you can't tell me!" she argued, "What are you so afraid of?"

He pounced on her final words, snapping, "I'm not afraid! Do you understand me? I'm _not_ afraid! I'm-" he stopped short, regaining a hold of himself, "I just…have a lot on my mind, and I need some time to think. Alright?"

Cat stared at him, stunned at the vehemence of his words.

He _was _afraid. No matter how much he denied it, something had happened to make Edgar afraid. That much was clear to her. What it was though, she couldn't even begin to imagine…

Cat did the only thing she could think of. She reached out and took up Edgar's hand in hers, stroking the back knuckles with her fingertips. Though he still didn't look up, she did notice that he gripped her hand in his tightly.

"I love you." Cat was struck by just how grave he sounded as he said it- as if he knew something terrible was about to happen and he wanted to tell her he loved her just in case he would never be able to say it again.

"I love you too."

Edgar looked up at her then, a bleak smile on his lips, "Do you?" he whispered, "Do you really love me, Catherine?"

She frowned, searching his face confusingly. What had made him even ask her that question? What was the matter with him?

Before either of them could say another word, Isabella came into the dining room humming brightly, a smile turning up her lips. Cat glanced back at Edgar, btu he retreated back into his thoughts again and had pulled his hand out of hers.

"You're in a good mood Isabella," she said to her sister in law, "Is it something we should know about?"

Isabella pulled her chair out, then sat down, helping herself to the scrambled eggs, "Correction Cat," she said , "I am in a _perfect_ mood today- and you know why? Because I have succeeded in recruiting one of the newest, freshest, most promising artists in the business to have his grand opening at my studio!"

Cat rolled her eyes surreptitiously and turned back to her food. Isabella's art studio was of very little interest to her. She was always saying that she was getting the most promising artists to premiere their art there, but when all was said and done they never really went anywhere.

"That's nice." She didn't even attempt to disguise the disinterest in her voice.

Isabella waited a few moments, shifting her gaze back and forth between Cat and Edgar. When she saw that they weren't going to reply, she made a small sound of impatience, "Well? Aren't you guys at least going to _ask _me about him? You just _have_ to see some of his work! It's just…" she shook her head, "It's beautiful. He deals mostly in oils, but some of his charcoal drawings are amazing too. Every studio in town's been asking him to premiere at their studio- including that bitch Gina Tolstone. But anyway," she said, the scowl disappearing from her face, "Out of all the rest of the competitors, he said that he wanted to choose me!"

"I wonder what made him want to have his show at your studio," Cat wondered aloud. Edgar remained silent but Cat noticed that his grip on his fork tightened, and she heard him suck in a sharp breath.

"He just knows quality when he sees it, that's all!" Isabella said triumphantly. "I know how to make stars- I know all the right people to invite. He's probably heard that."

"What's this Picasso's name?"

Isabella frowned, looking up at the ceiling for a long moment, "Hmm…I forget… Cliffe's his last name, I think. He didn't tell me his first name when I talked with him on the phone. I think he prefers it that way-"

Edgar had been reaching for his glass of juice as Isabella spoke, but at the mention of the name, the glass slipped from hands and to the floor, shattering it into pieces.

Isabella got up and knelt down on the ground to try to gather the broken pieces of glass, "Edgar, what the hell?!" she exclaimed "This is from one of Mom's best dining sets! Cristina," she called out for their maid, "Bring a broom and a dust bin!"

Edgar pushed his chair back and swiftly strode from the room, going off in the direction of his study.

Cat wasn't focused on the glass, or the broom and dustbin. She was focused on Edgar, and the reaction he'd had at the mere sound of the name of Isabella's new artist. She called after him repeatedly, but he didn't stop.

"I don't know what the hell his problem has been," Isabella was muttering under breath, "He walks around here like some scared rabbit, sulking here and moping there- what's the matter with him?"

Cat didn't answer. She wouldn't have been able to give a reply even if she wanted to.

* * *

The Little Boy awoke cold and hungry.

At this time of year, the temperature always dropped in the morning, filling the large, drafty house in a brisk chilliness that magnified both its size and emptiness.

But the morning air wasn't the only reason that the Little Boy was cold. He was cold because the furnace in the basement was broken. He was cold because the windows in the house were either broken or cracked open and were wedged too tightly for his own strength to try to close. And then, he was cold, because he was always cold. He'd had the sensation for so long now that it just became something he was used to, and experienced as a habit. In fact if he'd by some miracle woken up one morning and felt warm or even comfortable, he would have thought something was wrong with the world.

The hunger was something that was harder for the Little Boy to deal with. Coldness, shivering; those were things that could gradually degenerate into numbness and eventually be ignored. But hunger was a vicious, gnawing beast that attacked the little boy's body and senses relentlessly. He thought about food constantly. He even dreamed about it; enormous cheeseburgers with greasy buns and lots of ketchup, pizza loaded with extra cheese and sausage (his favorite toppings), pancakes and syrup, bowls of macaroni and cheese like the ones the Nice Old Lady who used to live in the house with them used to make. The Little Boy's hunger was almost his obsession, and like a true obsession it was never satiated.

Rolling off his bed (that really didn't belong to him, it belonged to the Nice Old Lady, but he slept in it anyway to remind himself of her), the Little Boy stepped into the shoes that were becoming increasingly holey and worn. The shoelaces had long been snapped and frayed into uselessness. He walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway, trying to be as quiet as he could as he walked by the shut bedroom door across the hall. The Drunk Man inside the bedroom was most likely passed out on the mattress in the corner (or the floor, it sometimes varied) but if he ever heard the Little Boy making noise, he would get angry and start yelling and screaming things that the Little Boy didn't understand, but was frightened at all the same.

The Little Boy ignored the groaning cries of protest that rumbled in his belly. He'd gotten used to them a long time ago. They were unfortunate, but a fact. There was no food to be found in the large drafty house, not anymore.

In those first few weeks after the Nice Old Lady had gone away in the ambulance, the Little Boy had been able to live off of the food that had still been in the house. Whenever he thought about the leftover meatloaf that had been in the refrigerator, he wanted to kick himself for having such an enormous appetite and eating so many portions at a time. He wished with all that was within him that he had eaten the food sparingly, so that it could have lasted for perhaps two whole weeks instead of three days. He hadn't known the Nice Old Lady would be gone for such a long time. The grownups at the hospital and the Beautiful Lady (he knew she was his aunt only because the Nice Old Lady told him she was), had told him that the Nice Old Lady was just a little sick, and that she would be home before he knew it. 'Before he knew it' turned into one week, then two, three, four, five, a month. The food from the grownups at the hospital stopped being placed on the front porch outside the door. Then two months passed. Then three. Then the Little Boy just stopped keeping track of the time.

The first and only time he'd asked the Drunk Man inside the bedroom for food, he'd received not food, but a smack in the face and an order for him to get the hell out of the Drunk Man's face. The Little Boy had run away, pressing his hands over his ears so that he didn't have to hear the Drunk Man scream at him that he wished the Little Boy was dead, that the Little Boy had killed the Drunk Man's wife.

So the Little Boy went through the canned goods (it'd taken him two hours to figure out how to use the can opener), he went through the cereal, the crackers, bread, everything.

Eventually, his hunger had become so great that he even consumed the condiments in the refrigerator; when he sucked the sauces on his finger they settled the hunger in his stomach.

When there had been no more food or milk or juice, he'd followed the Drunk Man in the bedroom out to the bar that the he frequented more and more the longer that the Nice Old Lady was away.

The Little Boy could smell food on the inside of the noisy, rowdy building as he crouched there in the bushes. He never tried to go inside the bar- he just stayed there to smell the air, letting the aroma fill his nostrils and enter his lungs for hours. After he'd done this for a few days, the Little Boy had taken to climbing into and picking through the garbage dumpster in the parking lot, trying to find food. Some nights he was lucky- he would find remnants of someone's dinner or lunch- some soggy French fries, crushed potato chips, a chicken wing with some of the meat still left on it. If the Little Boy was _very_ lucky, there wouldn't be a rat in the dumpster he had to fight over the food with (He had a number of rather nasty bite marks on his arms and fingers from previous failed battles)

It had taken about two weeks of dumpster diving and scrounging for him to notice he was being watched.

The Watching Man never spoke to him or tried to approach the Little Boy. He would stand in the shadows at the edge of the parking lot that met the forest, watching in silence. He drove a motorcycle that he sometimes sat upon while he watched the Little Boy. His hair was dark and somewhat long, pulled into a tail at the nape of his neck.

The bar wasn't the only place the Little Boy saw the Watching Man. He'd even seen him at his house once or twice. The first time had been when the Drunk Man was away, still drinking at the bar. The Little Boy had come back at sunset, when he had still been able to see rather clearly without squinting in the darkness. As he'd approached the house, he'd suddenly seen someone coming out the back of it. A toolbox was in their hand. When the Little Boy had come closer, he recognized the person as the Watching Man from the bar. Just as he had never said anything to the Little Boy in the parking lot, the Watching Man had said nothing to him then. But he had stared at him for a long moment. The Watching Man had taken the tool box back into the garage that adjoined the house, come back out, climbed onto his motorcycle and driven away. The Little Boy couldn't remember anything strange from the encounter, besides the fact that after that day, the heat in the house had stopped working.

He had been afraid of the Watching Man at first, but now he had simply gotten used to seeing him, used to being watched.

He could become used to anything if he needed to. He was used to the perpetual coldness of the house. He was used to being hungry. He was used to the loss of the electricity and plumbing in the house. He was used to the visits from people he knew were called bill collectors- he was used to hearing them knock and call through the door that they needed to speak to Mr. Henry Ernshawl as soon as possible, that it was very urgent. He was used to the Drunk Man taking the envelope that the Little Boy knew came from the Beautiful Lady every month and spending the money inside on alcohol. He had become so very used to it all by now…

The morning was still and quiet as he went out of the house, down the stairs and across the field towards the forest. The mist hung above it like a cloud that had descended down from the sky. Normally he didn't go out this early, but he'd taken to doing it more and more often because he didn't want to be in the house to have t listen to the sound of knocking and yes, even banging on the door. These days the bill collectors started throwing around words he didn't understand like 'foreclosure' and 'eviction.' If he woke up now, he could leave the house before they got there and stay away from it long enough so that they'd be gone by the time he got back. And besides, he liked this time of day best- it made him feel as though he was the only person in the entire world, and though he was dirty, cold and hungry, the little boy almost felt safe when the world was like this. He passed by the sprawling willow tree that he had climbed a hundred times before. It was another sort of refuge for the Little Boy- he stayed there entire nights sometimes, sleeping beneath the drooping branches on the soft soil, temporarily forgetting the reality of his life.

He tramped through the forest now, hopping over logs, ponds and easing himself between tree branches and bushes. He knew exactly where he was going- he could walk this forest blind and still not get lost.

He finally reached the small lake located in the center of the forest and began climbing down the small hill towards the bank.

The splash of cold water on his face was refreshing. The Little Boy cupped his dirty palms together and scooped them into the lake. He drank the water he'd caught up, uncaring of how dirty or unsanitary it may have been. It was the only source of water he had left. When the water had stopped flowing in the house, he not only used this water to prevent himself from becoming dehydrated, he had used it to bathe in. He hadn't had any soap anymore, but he splashed the water underneath his arms, between his legs, in his hair, behind his neck and ears- every place that the Nice Old Lady had taught him to wash in the bathtub upstairs in the house. It was too cold for that now- so the Little Boy smelled. He didn't like it, but he'd rotated through his clothes as much as he could and by now they were all dirtied or smelly in some way or other- there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Suddenly, the Little Boy lifted his head, alert. He let his nose rise up a little higher in the air, inhaling deeply. A lurch hit his stomach, and as if on cue, it growled.

_Food..._

A moment later, he heard a twig snap from behind him. He started, and whirled around.

The Watching stood nor more than five or six feet away from him. A paper bag was in his hand- the source of the wonderful smells that were now filling the Little Boy's nostrils, making his mouth begin to water with hunger.

The eyes of the Little Boy and the Watching met with one another and held in a gaze that seemed to last forever. The Little Boy looked on in blank wonder, while the Watching Man stared at him with a stoic intensity. The Little Boy noticed how green and piercing his eyes were. Then his gaze returned the paper bag, and a look of intense, regretful yearning entered his wide, dark eyes.

Without another word, the Watching Man held out the bag to him, as if he could read the wanting in the Little Boy's eyes. At first, he hung back, as if he was afraid that if he so much as took a single step towards the Watching Man, he would be punished. The Watching Man gave the bag a little shake, as if to emphasize that the bag was indeed for the Little Boy, and wasn't some cruel joke. That gesture was all the reassurance he needed. the Little Boy immediately started forward, snatched the bag and knelt down on the forest floor, tearing it open. His hunger was so great that he had begun eating the hamburger before it was even fully unwrapped from the paper, and he accidentally ate some of it with the food. But he didn't care. He took large, ravenous bite after bite, almost as if he was afraid the Watching Man would try and take it from him if he didn't hurry. But the Watching Man didn't. He only stood there in stoic, yet serene silence, watching the Little Boy gobble up the food.

He ate the two hamburgers in the paper bag so fast, he was panting by the time he finished. He knelt there in the dirt, and looked back up at the Watching Man. The gaze coming from the emerald irises almost seemed like a cross between pity and hatred. He felt as though despite the fact that he had just given him food, the Watching Man could and might, at any moment, draw back his black boot and kick him square in the face. Still not a word passed between them.

Suddenly, the Little Boy doubled over, holding his stomach. His face contorted as the cramps washed over him. He'd eaten too quickly.

He refused to throw the food up. He refused. He wouldn't. Not when he didn't even know if he'd be finding any food to eat in the bar dumpster tomorrow. He could stand the pain if only to make this full sensation stay inside his belly for as long as possible.

The effort to keep the food and bile from rising in his mouth, while also combating the stomach cramps was intensely difficult and he groaned softly, shutting his eyes tightly.

He felt his eyes begin to burn and tingle, as an egg rose in his throat. He began to cough and choke, but stubbornly refused to let the food come up. He sputtered and coughed harder and harder until at last, another sound broke from his lips.

It was a sob.

The Little Boy's eyes blurred from the hot moisture and the tears spilled down his cheeks. His body began shaking with coughs and sobs. Snot and salt water mingled together, flowing more and more freely with every second that passed.

He was crying because of the pain in his stomach. He was crying because of what the Watching Man had just done for him. And he was crying because he kept thinking about how for the past few days, he really had begun to become seriously afraid that he was going to starve or freeze to death there in that big, drafty house, with no one there who even cared that he existed or not.

The Watching Man hadn't made any move to help or comfort the Little Boy as he cried. He only continued looking down at him in silence.

When at last his cries subsided, he raised his head, his red rimmed eyes meeting with the Watching Man's emerald colored ones.

And something happened then.

Still not a word had passed between them, but an understanding had been made nonetheless. An understanding that even years later, when the Little Boy became a young man, only the two of them would truly be able to comprehend.

The Little Boy bound himself to the Watching Man in that moment. Without knowing the real reason that the Watching Man had been watching him for so long and the real reason the Watching Man had even chosen to show him the simple act of charity, the Little Boy pledged his allegiance and loyalty to the Watching Man forever. He would have eaten dirt for the Watching Man in that moment, if he'd asked. He would have even eaten his own shit. From that day on, anything the Watching Man wanted of the Little Boy, he had only to say (not even ask or request, for the Little Boy was more than willing to follow his orders.)

His devotion had been bought for nothing more than the price of two cheap, greasy hamburgers.

The Little Boy and the Watching Man only looked into each other's eyes for a few more moments. The Watching Man made a small, abrupt motion with his neck to the him. Then, with still not a single word passing between them, he turned and began walking up the bank back into the thicket of the forest. The Little Boy followed him.

And that was how things between them would be from that day on: wherever Heath went, Harry would follow- without question, protest or even words. Only loyalty. Unwavering, dogged, unexplainable loyalty.


	39. Chapter 39: Back from the Dead

_A/N: Hey gang, update time again! You've all been waiting so patiently for this and I'm glad myself to finally get around to it. Also, the next chapter is nearly done and I'm planning on posting it within the next couple of days. So yay for back to back updates! Thanks to all my readers out there as usual. And on a more personal side, I miss hearing from all of you, so feel free to drop a girl a line and let her know how she's doing with the story- t'would be sooo much appreciated. lol Enjoy the update lovelies. Love ya lots ;-) --Jess_

**Chapter Thirty Nine: Back From the Dead**

Henry had been having a nightmare. It was the same one he'd had for five years, since the night he had lost Francie. He was running through the corridors of a hospital, hearing her cries of pain amid the sound of an infant screaming. He kept frantically searching, opening closed door after closed door, looking for his wife. The rooms were boxed, pristine white and empty. The further he ran, the more rooms he looked in, the louder the sounds of Francie's screams became in his ears. He couldn't find her. He couldn't find her, and she was dying, slipping away from him. He had never been able to stay asleep long enough to find her- he always woke up before he got the chance. That was the torture of the dream- being so close to her and hearing her suffer, but losing her and the chance to help her in his awakening.

Henry jolted awake then with a cry. Tears were already streaming down his face and he was shaking. His pulse was racing. And suddenly he was very afraid, but of what he didn't know.

Then, from behind him, he heard a floorboard creak. A sound like the swinging open of a door followed. It was the door of his bedroom.

Silence.

Henry's heart pounded in his chest and his mouth was cracked open as he breathed in and out. For a long time, he didn't move, and neither did the something that had made the noise.

Henry closed his eyes, and more tears fell from his eyes. But these new tears were not only for his nightmare and the grief of losing his wife. These tears were for what he now knew was behind him- what he could just feel had finally come for him…._who_ he knew had finally come to give him what he deserved.

He didn't turn around. Even though he knew it was useless, he kept wishing that what was happening then was just another dream, another nightmare sent to torment him.

But no. Not this time. There would be no more nightmares to torment him. He had known that in a single instant. Now, there would be nothing but reality to agonize him- cold, inescapable reality. Henry knew his reality was standing in the doorway of that bedroom- and that there would be no relief or mercy from it.

None.

The twist of Heath's lips as he stood in the doorway and watched Henry was bitter and malevolent. It was not a smile, nor a grimace- but it had every indication of sheer satisfaction and triumph. This was a moment that both he and Henry would remember forever- the moment their roles had finally been switched. The day that Henry became the insect, and Heath became his God.

Henry, trying to swallow the enormous egg in his throat slowly, very slowly began to turn around. He tried to steel himself as he did, and gather every ounce of composure available to him. He would be indifferent to what was going to come. He would simply withdraw into himself so deeply that no one could find him. He would-

That was when his thoughts and self-reassurances vanished. His eyes met with Heath's and he lost his indifference.

Then they went to the baseball bat in Heath's hand, and every bit of composure and strength he may have had a chance at preserving was obliterated. Henry could feel his stomach plummet, and the air leave his lungs. Suddenly he wanted to vomit.

"Stand up." Heath commanded, still not budging from his place in the open doorway. There was no menace or threat in the tone of his voice. Both he and Henry knew that it would have been unnecessary to use. They knew that there would be no resistance to his orders, no rebellion. They both were well aware of how futile such things would be to Henry. There was no fight left inside of him at that moment.

He shakily stood to his feet, reaching out a hand that blindly grasped at the air, as if it would steady his balance.

"Take off your clothes."

Henry almost could have smiled then at the next order. Instead he merely grimaced, flexing the muscle in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and undressed himself with numb fingers. He knew more than anyone that revenge against an enemy, especially a worst enemy, was the strongest addictive imaginable. It was more intoxicating than alcohol, more thrilling than the strongest drug.

Henry had tasted revenge, years ago when his father died and he'd held a will in his hands that gave him the power to do whatever he wished with the one person in the world he hated most. He'd drunk his fill of revenge without shame or remorse. His revenge had been sweet and so complete…or so he had thought.

He never counted on his wife dying. He'd never counted on becoming a drunk who cared for nothing and no one, not even himself. He'd never counted on the taste of revenge turning bitter in his mouth. He'd never counted on so many things…

It wasn't until he was completely naked in the drafty air that Heath finally budged from his spot in the doorway, moving into the bedroom. As he did, Henry noticed something he hadn't noticed before. A little figure had been hiding behind Heath's leg, the fingers digging into the denim of his jeans. It was so thin and gangly that its silhouette was almost completely eclipsed by the leg. Henry's eyes widened, and he swayed a little on his feet,

"Harry…" He croaked, his voice breaking in between the syllables of his son's name.

Harry stayed in the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, keeping half of his face hidden. Though he was still disturbingly thin, he was clean. His dark hair had been cut and framed his face neatly. The clothes he wore were new, though plain and unextraordinary. The look in his eyes was blank and expressionless- when he looked into Henry's eyes it was though he was looking at a stranger.

Henry let his gaze flicker back and forth between Heath and his son, his breathing becoming heavier and more desperate, "G-go." He said hoarsely to the little boy. Harry couldn't see this. He wouldn't allow his son to see this happening to him. He could stand everything else, anything else but that. "Get out of here."

"Stay." Heath had spoken almost immediately. He hadn't even turned around. He'd spoken to Harry, as if the little boy was a dog being given an order,

And sure enough…Harry stayed where he was.

Henry frowned at him, confused and dismayed for a few moments- then his eyes met with Heath's again, and in a single instant, he suddenly understood what real revenge was. It was happening to him in that moment. It had turned his son against him, and pushed the little boy into the grip of Henry's enemy. It had lured Harry into a place where Henry had no hope of ever getting him back again.

Henry's eyes locked with Heath's, and all the anger, all the hatred he had ever felt for him seemed to return in an almost overwhelming electric surge that he could feel to the very tips of his fingers.

But it didn't matter. It was a meaningless anger, a meaningless hatred.

This time, Heath was the one holding the baseball bat. Heath was the one filled with even more anger and hatred. Heath was the one with the power.

Raising the baseball bat up, Heath poised the tip just under Henry's chin. "Fold your hands behind your head," he murmured, "And stand on one leg."

Henry had known what Heath was going to say before he even opened his mouth. But hearing the words (knowing their significance as words he spoken to Heath years ago), and having them now spoken to him in front of Harry- all of that was something that even he was unprepared to really hear. It made him hesitate.

Heath brought the baseball against Henry's windpipe, applying a firm pressure against it, "Do it." He muttered, his voice low and tight.

Henry glared back at him, hoping that every ounce of hatred he felt inside was displayed through his eyes, "Fuck…you…" he finally whispered in reply.

That was the last thing he could remember before the pain started. The pain that without warning, slammed into his abdomen, dropping him to the ground as vomit spewed from his mouth. The pain didn't stop, crashing against his back, legs, hands and feet, over and over again. Henry screamed when he felt his bones crack. He choked and gagged when he felt his dislodged teeth tickling the back of his throat. He moaned when it hurt too much to scream. He whimpered when it hurt too much to moan. And he wept when he was too broken to whimper. He kept weeping even after Heath finally stopped swinging the now broken baseball bat. He was still weeping when, after giving him a final, brutal kick in the groin, Heath finally turned to leave the room.

Through his blood and tear stained eyes, Henry saw his worst enemy pick Harry up in his arms and carry him away down the stairs of the house. By the time the front door slammed shut, he was sobbing-a sobbing, bleeding heap curled up on the floor of the bedroom, in too much pain to budge, and too wretchedly hopeless to care...

* * *

Cat couldn't sleep.

She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table by her pillow.

3:23 am.

Last time she'd looked, it had been two hours earlier. The time was passing by quickly, but she wasn't getting any sleepier. Not even after taking two of the extra strength sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed her. Cat knew that her growing immunity to them was her own fault; she'd been taking them for too long. The doctor had warned her that this would happen, that they weren't meant to be a permanent thing to take, like a vitamin or supplement. He'd told her to take it easy and try to wean herself off of them. Cat hadn't listened to him. She'd felt as though she didn't have a choice but to continue to take the pills. She needed them now. She couldn't sleep on her own, not anymore.

From beside her in the bed, Edgar tossed and turned in his sleep. He had been doing that often lately, and even talking in his sleep upon occasion. His sleep was disturbed by nightmares, that much she could tell. It never seemed peaceful anymore, and now matter how early he went to bed or how long he slept, he never seemed rested in the morning.

When he made love to her, Edgar seemed like a different man. He was ardent and as earnest as ever- but now, in a desperate, fearful kind of way. As if he were afraid that she was going to disappear any moment. Now every time he told her that he loved her, no matter how hard she tried not to, Cat felt uncomfortable. And though she didn't want to, she held him responsible for driving this increasingly widening gap between him with his bizarre behavior that he refuses to talk to her about.

She felt as though he was pushing her away. And the further away she went from Edgar…the closer she found herself returning to that place and person she'd tried time and time again over the years to bury at the back of her heart. The attempts had never been successful- not completely. When the reality of Edgar wasn't enough to sustain her and distract her from her unhappiness, Cat would turn to her fantasies and memories of Heath, and they would make her forget anything she wanted to forget. They made her remember anything she wanted to recall. They made her pretend anything she wanted to be true, if only for a little while.

Shifting around in the bed, Cat relaxed onto her back and folded her arms over herself as she stared up into the darkness that filled the room. The egg was rising in her throat again. Cat let it come this time. She let the tears well in her eyes and fall down her cheeks and onto the pillow. She let the sobs come, soft and gasping, heard by no one but herself.

"If only…" she whispered over and over again, "Heath, if only…if _only_…"

* * *

When Cat woke up the next morning, Edgar was already gone. That didn't surprise her. He had taken to leaving earlier for work, and when she wasn't working herself she'd taken to waking up later.

The sun streamed in through the bed curtains and fell across her face, warming it. She sighed, cracking her eyes open a little, then letting them fall closed again.

Her bedroom door burst open suddenly, and Isabella sailed in, "Okay, your honest opinion." She said anxiously, "What do you think of this outfit? Do you like it, or is it too much?"

Cat pressed her lips together in irritation and waited a few moments before she opened her eyes. Her sister in law was standing at the foot of the bed, holding her arms out at her sides and turning around in a small circle to display the outfit she was wearing. The dip in the blouse was low, and the slit at the side of the matching skirt was high, displaying Isabella's figure to its best advantage. Her hair was pulled up in a simple, yet elegant hairdo and flawlessly applied makeup was on her face.

Cat studied Isabella for a few while longer and resisted the urge to give into the pang of jealous resentment that had shot through her. Sometimes, just sometimes she was willing to admit that her sister in law was far more attractive than she was, and just sometimes she found herself actually bothered by it.

"You look fine." She replied dryly, "Can there possibly be a party at ten in the morning you have to go to, or is the occasion a little more… _personal_?"

Isabella laughed at that, "I guess you could say that." She came around to Cat's side of the bed and sat down on the edge of it, "Though it's not really what you think."

Cat had let her eyes drift shut again, but shot back, "You want to bet?"

"No! It's not…" Isabella protested, then smiled secretively, "Not exactly anyway. This is work-related."

"Let me guess. This work is related to your fabulous new artist, What's- his-name-Cliffe."

Giggling, Isabella nodded, "Okay, okay I'll admit it: it _is _about him. I'm supposed to be meeting him later today before the opening tonight at the studio and I thought I should make a good first impression."

"You mean you _still_ haven't met him yet?"

Isabella shrugged, "Well at least not in person. His agent says he's been really busy. But we've spoken over the phone lots of times. Besides, I know what his art looks like and that's all that really counts. It was shipped to the studio yesterday, and we had it set up last night. It's the most amazing oil work I've ever seen. If he's not a millionaire by now, he will be by the time the opening is finished! And there's never any harm in making a good impression on one of those, is there?"

"Right. Well if you don't make a good first impression, your tits sure will."

"So good of you to notice, Catherine!" she replied pleasingly, adjusting the collar of her blouse, "Hopefully he'll be just as attentive as you are."

"Not to rain on your parade or anything, but will you still be as concerned about looking like the latest Gucci spread if your precious Cliffe guy turns out to be old, fat and balding with rotten teeth?"

Isabella scoffed in dismissal, "Ever the pessimist, aren't you? God forbid you ever decide to be happy for me, that'd be too much to ask!" She stood up from the bed and brushed off her suit, "I guess it's pointless to ask if you want to come with me to meet him?"

Cat nodded, "Don't bother. I have to swing by the hospital to pick up Ellie, they're letting her come home today."

"And even if you didn't have to pick Ellie up, you'd find some excuse as to why you couldn't go anyway." Isabella finished sardonically, "Yes, I know. Well, have it your own way then. But you have to at least, come to the opening tonight to see the art. You _have_ to!"

Cat sighed and rolled her eyes, "Isabella-"

"You can't say no," she interrupted, "You _cannot _say no again, Catherine! You and Edgar haven't been to one of my art studio's openings in months and since Edgar's been such a pain in the ass lately, I'm counting on you to be there this time!"

"For what? So I can watch you flirt with your latest Pablo Picasso while I stand in a corner and twiddle my thumbs?"

"So you can support me!" Isabella retorted, "And at least pretend as though you're interested and show respect to my new artist! You know, when I spoke to him on the phone last night he told me he really wanted to meet my family."

Cat frowned confusingly, "Why?"

She shrugged, "My guess, he's heard of you and just wants to meet a celebrity. What difference does it make? Can't you just suck it up and come?"

Cat rolled her eyes and raked her hair back away from her face, "…Maybe." she said at last, "I'll think about it. If Ellie doesn't want me to stay her with her tonight when I bring her home, than maybe-"

But Isabella lunged forward before she'd even finished and hugged her gratefully, "Thank you, thank you, _thank_ you, Catherine! I knew you'd say yes!"

Cat eased herself out of the embrace and climbed out of her bed, "Alright, fine. Now that you got what you wanted, get out of my room so I can get dressed. I have to get to the hospital to pick up Ellie."

"Is Edgar going with you?" Isabella asked, and Cat threw her a dirty look,

"What do you think?"

"Sorry. I guess I should have known better than to ask that one." She shook her head, "I don't know what the hell his problem's been, Catherine. I've never seen Edgar like this before. Last night I tried asking him to come to the opening, and you know what he did? He blew up at me! Edgar. He never loses his temper, you know that. You think it still has something to do with Dad?"

Cat shook her head, "No. He acted differently about that. He was actually willing to talk to us about it. This is something else."

"Well if you do find out somehow, do me a favor and let me know," Isabella said as she headed towards the door, "I want my brother back!"

Cat didn't answer her right away. She had went to the window that overlooked the street to take a look outside at the sunrise. As she pulled back the curtain to look, she stopped short as her gaze swept idly over the street below. She stared. Her heart skipped a beat.

There, parked just in front of the house was a black Harley motorcycle. The driver was sitting at the seat, dressed in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. He wore a black helmet, but the visor had been left up., exposing his eyes. He had been staring up at the house when she opened the curtain- but in the next moment, for some reason, Cat suddenly felt as though he was looking straight at her. He was a floor beneath her, some twelve feet at least- but when their eyes had met, Cat had felt something inside of her wrench hard.

That gaze. That gaze.

The eyes-

Cat shut her eyes, letting the curtain out of her grasp. It fell back into place. She covered her face with a hand, murmuring under her breath

"Oh God…oh my _God_…" She felt hot and dizzy and her heart was hammering so fast she could barely breathe.

Isabella noticed just before she was about to leave, and paused, "Catherine?" she called, "Catherine, are you alright?"

Cat didn't answer. She was holding her head in her hands, still taking shaky, shallow breaths.

"Oh God, no…No…no…" she kept muttering.

It wasn't. She knew that it wasn't. She knew very well that the driver of the motorcycle wasn't-

It was impossible.

Isabella came over to where she stood, frowning concernedly, "Catherine, what's wrong?" she asked, "What happened? Did you see something out there to upset you?" She pulled back the curtain and looked out into the street, "There's nothing out there, hon. What's the matter?"

Cat snapped her head up at that, "What?!" she exclaimed. She looked for herself.

Isabella was right. The motorcycle and driver she'd seen (or thought she'd seen) a moment ago had vanished, as if they'd never been there in the first place.

But she felt sure she'd seen it. That she'd seen the driver. And for that one moment where their eyes had met, Cat had felt certain-no, she had _known_ in that moment, that the driver of the motorcycle was….

But it couldn't have been. It wasn't.

That was impossible.

Her heart started to return to its normal pace. She tried to steady her breathing and regain a hold of herself.

She must have imagined it. That was it. And if she hadn't imagined the motorcycle and the driver being there she'd certainly imagined that the driver had been Heath.

That was impossible.

She was never going to see Heath again. He was dead.

* * *

"You may feel a little sleepy or dizzy after a while Mrs. Deene, but that's perfectly natural," the nurse said to Ellie reassuringly as she pushed the syringe needle through the IV, "People often experience those side effects after taking diazepam- especially in the beginning. It'll get better though, I promise."

Ellie nodded, "Doesn't matter, just give it to me." She muttered wearily. She was tired of the spasms in her hand and leg, even more tired than she was of being in the hospital, "Where's Cat, is she here yet to get me out of here?"

"You just asked me five minutes ago, Mrs. Deene," the nurse replied patiently, "She's outside signing the release papers and talking with the doctor. Just because we're letting you go doesn't mean we can't make sure you'll stay healthy once you are out there."

Ellie said nothing, cursing her own forgetfulness. She knew that going home wouldn't make things that much better, not with what she had ahead of her. Hour upon hour of physical therapy and people fussing over her, that was what she had to look forward to. But anything was better than the hospital.

"I just want to go home." She murmured feebly. The nurse smiled at her and patted her hand,

"I know ma'am. Look, you wait here and I'll go and see how things are progressing out there so we can get you dressed and on your way." She left the room and all was quiet again, save for the beeping of the machines in the room hooked up to Ellie's body.

Ellie sighed heavily and allowed her eyes to drift shut. She was just beginning to drift off to sleep, when she thought she heard a little sound like soft footsteps on the floor of the room. Then suddenly, she could sense a presence there with her.

Ellie cracked her eyes open with a small smile, expecting to see Cat.

She froze. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

It wasn't Cat standing at the foot of the bed. It wasn't the kind nurse or the doctor. It was the last person in the world she had ever expected to see. For a long while, she couldn't even speak.

"Sweet Jesus…" she finally whispered, "Is it…is it _really_…"

"Hello, Ellie." Heath said quietly.

Still reeling from the shock, Ellie pushed herself straight in the bed, opening her eyes wider to get a better look at him.

He stood straight and seemingly taller than ever, hands slid inside a black leather jacket. It fit him perfectly; not so much that it looked too big, but just good enough so that it was obvious that he had put on muscle in his shoulders, chest and biceps. His shortened hair was pulled back into a tail, only a few unruly wisps managing to still frame his face. There was a light, but neat shadow of hair on his chin. His eyes were as piercing as ever, but there was a guarded calm in them that was far different than the look Ellie was used to seeing in them before. And there was something else inside of them too- something…but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

Neither of them spoke, but Ellie was silent on account of her shock. Heath didn't seem to be feeling anything. His eyes and face were completely unreadable.

At last, Ellie shook her head slowly and managed to murmur, "…How? How can you be here? You- we… we all thought…" her voice dropped back down to a whisper, "You were supposed to be dead."

Heath studied her in silence for a long moment. A small, cryptic grimace appeared in his jaw, and it took Ellie a few moments to realize that it was supposed to pass for a tight smile. The way that he finally spoke was even more puzzling; as if he were in on some gross, perverse joke that was never meant to make someone laugh. Ellie realized then what it was in his eyes that she'd been unable to identify before: it was hardness. Unyielding hardness.

"I _was_ dead." He let his head tilt sideways as he studied her, "You look upset…are you surprised to see me?" one of his eyebrows arched, "…Or just disappointed?"

Ellie didn't answer right away. She couldn't make sense of her feelings at all of a sudden seeing him standing there, alive and not dead as she and everyone else had thought for all these years.

Before Heath had left, Ellie had distanced herself from him. From the moment that she discovered the truth as to why Francie had really died, she'd wanted nothing more to do with him. She'd even been somewhat afraid of him.

He'd let Francie die. He'd killed her. All to have his revenge against Henry. And he hadn't even been sorry.

He wasn't sorry now, either. She could see that in those eyes of his. He wasn't sorry, and he knew that she could see he wasn't sorry.

She knew that everything Heath had done he'd did out of his anger and hurt from being kept away from Cat, at Henry's separating them. She even understood it…but she still hadn't been able to forgive him for it. Francie was still dead. There was still a lonely little boy at home without a mother and drunk for a father because of him. And Ellie would never be able to forgive that. Ever.

So she didn't answer his question. She studied him in further silence, her gaze sweeping over his body, then returning to his eyes.

She'd thought Heath had been an attractive boy when he ran away from The Heights. His lean, wiry physique had suited the symmetrical features of his face. His mass of silky black hair and piercing green eyes had given him an untamed, sensual air that even she'd been able to appreciate.

Five years later, the boy had turned into a man…and he was even more attractive than ever. The symmetry of his face had become more sculpted. His physique hadn't completely lost its leanness, but it had become a far more muscled, athletic build.

There was no telling how much attention he was getting from women when he looked like that.

But if he was the Heath that she still remembered, none of that would make a single difference. The Heath she remembered had ever only cared for one person's attention- no one else had even mattered to him…

The thought made her eyes briefly flicker to the open door of the hospital room, "Does She know you're here?" Ellie finally asked him, knowing that she didn't even have to say the name. It wasn't as if they would be talking about anyone else- it wasn't as if this was even about anything or anyone else.

Ellie knew that this was about Cat. She knew that for Heath, it would always be about Cat.

His silence was all the answer she needed. For all his cool composure and indifferent air, Ellie knew that Heath was probably just as damn good at hiding his emotions as he had always been. But even he couldn't fool her- not about this.

There was a reason why he had left. There was a reason why he had stayed away for so long. There was a reason why he had decided to come back. And there was a reason why he hadn't let Cat know that he was alive and here yet.

Those reasons were Cat. Cat was _all_ his reasons.

Ellie looked at him warily, now not even trying to disguise the distrust in her eyes, "Do you think," she began slowly, keeping her voice low, "That you're going to make her abandon the life she's built, everything she's worked for? Do you think you can make it as though nothing bad ever happened just because she finds out you're alive?" Ellie searched his face for an answer when she saw that he wasn't going to give her one, "You're wrong, Heath." She said simply, and she almost felt sorry for him, "You're wrong. She was able to survive after you left. She was able to move on. You can't sweep in here and try to rewrite her life just because you couldn't learn how to let her go."

Heath was silent then, only staring down at her. His emerald eyes were boring into hers more piercingly than Ellie had ever seen them. He took a step closer to the bed, and suddenly, she shrunk back down into the mattress, pulling the covers up higher over herself.

A rogue thought passed through her mind that perhaps she shouldn't have said that- that that sudden glint in his eyes was dangerous and well worth feeling the stab of fear that she hastily tried to quell.

But suddenly, the glint in his eyes vanished, and Heath backed away further from the bed. He made that same grimace with his lips, and then, it did look very close to a smile. Ellie didn't like it, though. In fact, upon seeing it, she shrunk even further back down into the bed.

""It's strange, Ellie. I've been gone for five years, but whenever I look at her now…it feels as though I never left." He lingered there for a few more moments, looking down at her. Then he turned, and left the room without another word.

Ellie stayed prostrated in the bed, barely moving at all until a few minutes later, when Cat came back into the room with the nurse and doctor. Cat smiled at her warmly, "Are you ready to get out of here, Mrs. Deene?" she asked, "Dr. Curtis says they're finally ready to kick you out!"

Ellie only stared up at her, searching her face for any signs that she may have seen Heath. To her relief, she saw none.

Meanwhile, Cat saw the concern in her face and frowned worriedly, placing her hand on the older woman's arm,

"Ellie? Are you okay? You don't feel sick or anything, do you?"

She finally found her tongue, and shook her head, "N-no, Cat. I'm…I'm just fine. Really, I am." She feigned a smile as if to try to convince her of the lie, "Let's go home."

Ellie remained silent the entire ride out of the hospital and to the waiting car. She was still silent on the drive home. And even when Cat had left her in the guest bedroom made up for her in the Linton's mansion, she still said nothing. There was an uneasy, foreboding feeling eating away at her. She couldn't stop thinking about the last thing that Heath had said to her before he left the hospital room.

Cat didn't know that he was alive yet. But she would. Soon. Ellie was sure of it. He wouldn't go for very much longer before facing her. She didn't think that he even could if he wanted to.

It wasn't until then that she realized what he had really meant in his reply to her earlier. She'd told him everything that he couldn't do, and he'd given a seemingly harmless, insignificant answer to her. But Ellie knew Heath better than that. She knew what he had really been saying to her. It'd even been staring at her in his eyes.

_Just you fucking watch me… _


	40. Chapter 40: He's Alive

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews. Sorry this chapter got a little long. Hope everyone enjoys it._

**Chapter Forty: He's Alive**

Cat leaned forward in the mirror, applying the dark lipstick to the crescent of her bottom lip. She rubbed it together with her top one, pausing to look at her reflection.

She nodded to herself, satisfied with what she saw. Standing up, she stepped into matching black stilettos and picked up her coat and purse. On her way out, she stopped by the guest bedroom Ellie was staying in, rapping on the door gently.

"Ellie?" she called out, sticking her head inside the room. She smiled, "Hey you, how are you feeling?"

Ellie stared at Cat as she walked over to the bed. Her expression was wistful, and strangely enough, sad. Her gaze drifted up and down Cat's body, and Ellie slowly shook her head, "You turned out so beautiful, Cat." She murmured, "_So_ beautiful."

Cat gave a little laugh, "Well don't sound so pleased to say it!" she joked, smoothing some hair out of Ellie's face, "How're you feeling? Any better?"

Ellie didn't answer the question, searching Cat's face with her eyes, "Francie always said you were beautiful. That you'd grow up to be one of the most beautiful women in the world."

Cat's face flickered at the mention of her dead sister in law, but she managed to keep the smile on her face, "Yeah well, she always thought better of me than she should have. She was like that with everyone."

Ellie seemed lost in a reverie, staring off into space for a few moments, "She would watch you and Heath from the kitchen window…going off across that field and into the forest…she would ask me, 'Do you think he realizes how beautiful she is yet, Ellie? Does he realize what he has?'"

Cat flinched at the sound of Heath's name, and steeled herself as Ellie continued talking. She was determined not to let her eyes water. She'd been doing so well at that lately, at not crying whenever she even thought of Heath. It had been nearly six years. She couldn't still cry at the mention of his name after that long.

Strangely enough, she began to see tears gather in Ellie's eyes instead. A soft sob escaped the older woman's lips, "Oh God," she murmured, "She's dead…Francie's dead!"

Cat shushed her soothingly, "I know. I know. It's alright, Ellie. Don't cry."

Ellie was crying now, "Oh God…God, she's dead! She's dead and he…he killed her! How could he do it?! How _could_ he…."

Cat stared at Ellie for a long moment, the smile fading from her face. An uneasy, churning sensation entered her belly, and it felt as though a spider were walking up her spine.

Then suddenly her composure cleared as she gave herself a brisk mental shake.

"Look Ellie," she said, "You have to try and calm down, okay? Stop scaring me like this. I have to go to Isabella's dumb art opening, do you know how miserable I'll be if I have to be worried about you while I'm there too?"

Her cell phone suddenly went off. Cat patted Ellie's hand comfortingly, "Listen, I- I have to go now, okay? If you need anything, Cristina's still here, and you know you can always call me." Ellie didn't answer, still weeping silently into her hand. Cat sighed heavily, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ellie's forehead before getting up and leaving the room.

She waited until she was out in the hallway and going down the stairs to dig her phone out of her purse. Seeing Isabella's name on the caller id, she rolled her eyes, "Yes, oh pushy and powerful Oz, I'm on my way!" she said dryly.

"Catherine?" Isabella's voice was muffled by what sounded like an enormous crowd of people, "Catherine drop everything you may be doing, and just get over here right now, you hear me?"

"Yes, I know. There's a glass of champagne and an empty corner with my name on it! Honestly Isabella, you act as though you can't live with me being a few minutes late. How's it going over there? Pretty crowded already?"

"Yeah, it's packed. All the art's been sold already. I told you that this guy is a genius, but that's exactly why I called you. Catherine listen," she sighed, "Are you sitting down?"

"Yes." Cat lied as she maneuvered her way into her coat, holding the phone with her chin.

"No, you're not." Isabella said flatly.

"What?"

"You're not sitting down, Catherine. You're lying, I can tell."

Cat scoffed impatiently as she went out the front door of the house and locked it behind her, "Isabella stop it! What difference does it make anyway?"

"Because, you _have_ to be sitting down to hear this, I'm not going to say it until you're sitting down."

"Fine!" Cat went down the sidewalk and got into the car door the driver held open for her, "Alright! Alright I really am sitting down this time, I promise. Now what the hell is it?!"

Isabella paused for a few moments before simply saying, "Catherine…it's him."

"Who?" Cat asked impatiently, "Who is him?"

Isabella said a name, but it suddenly became muffled over the sound of the crowd. Then the reception started breaking up.

"Hello?" Cat called louder, "Isabella, can you hear me? Hello?" There was a click, then silence. She looked at the phone, then sighed when she saw the Call Dropped message.

A moment later, the phone rang again. Cat expected it to be Isabella again, but saw instead that it was Edgar.

"Hello?" she answered, the surprise showing in her voice.

"Catherine?" Edgar called her name, his own voice sounding anxious and worried, "Catherine are you at the art opening yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm on my way there. You at home already?"

"No, I just left work. I'm on my way over there myself."

"You?" she repeated, even more surprised, "You mean _you're_ coming to the opening?"

"Yes." Edgar said firmly, "I um…thought that I should. It's been a while since I've been to one and I know it means a lot to Isabella and well…" he drifted off, falling silent for a few seconds, "Listen, Catherine, I'll be there as soon as I can okay? I love you." There it was again: the way he said 'I love you' as if he believed something horrible was about to happen.

"I know. And I love you too." Cat answered, "Bye, I'll see you soon."

Isabella had been right: the art opening was crowded. As Cat's car pulled up in front of the gallery, she could see that there were already numbers of people standing outside, going in and out of the building.

She got out of the car and approached the entrance toward the bright, golden lights from the inside.

The room inside was so crowded it was nearly stifling. Everywhere people were gathered around the walls, looking at the oil paintings, sipping at the champagne provided by the white tailed waiters. Cat saw several people she knew, and was greeted by, but there was no sign of Isabella yet. Taking a glass of champagne, she decided to look over the art being displayed on the walls and section dividers.

After the first three, Cat began to see what Isabella meant when she had said that this Cliffe guy was one of the best artists she'd seen in a while. Even Cat, who wasn't as interested in art as Isabella could admit, that he was extremely talented. His paintings were exquisitely done, not only in technique but in concept. She stared at them individually for minutes on end, intrigued by the color and imagery conveyed through the oils.

Her expression became wistful as she looked at one. The way the girl in the portrait had been painted, the technique and style- it reminded her of the way that Heath had done his portrait of her those nights in his room above The Heights so long ago. If she didn't know any better she would say that the girl favored her somewhat…

Cat let her mouth turn up in a bleak smile, then moved off to the right, toward the center of the room. Ever since she'd first arrived there she'd been hearing about a particular painting that was supposed to be not only the most expensive, but the most popular one in the entire collection. She could tell where it was by looking to where the majority of the people in the room were crowded. Now she was finally inching her way toward this painting, and found herself anxious to see it if for nothing else to see what all the fuss was all about.

Cat finally found an opening through the crowd and slipped her way through, breaking through so that she was directly facing the painting.

Her heart skipped a beat. She stopped short, suddenly unable to move. She didn't think she even breathed for a few moments.

_Oh my God…_

It was The painting. The one she had posed for.

Cat looked on in utter disbelief as saw her own face staring back at her, smiling up at her. Seeing the painting suddenly made the memory of Heath and that night so close to her- as if she could still touch it.

As if she could still touch him…

Cat's mouth was open in a silent gasp of horror. Her eyes were welling with tears of not only grief but shock. She was so overwhelmed that she couldn't even try to make sense of what was happening. It was too much to even consider.

She was hot. It was becoming harder to breathe. She was being pressed in on all sides from the people around her. The room was too small. She couldn't breathe. She had to get some air…

Cat stumbled and pushed her way through the crowd towards the doors of the walkout balcony of the gallery, uncaring of who she shoved or knocked into.

From far across the room, she thought she could hear her name being called by a familiar voice- was it Isabella? Cat thought so, but didn't turn around to look, still propelling towards the doors.

She fell against the door handles and practically lunged herself outside and into the cool night with a sharp cry of relief. Cat let herself lean against the stone of the balcony as her chest heaved up and down.

She was going crazy. It had finally happened, what she had been afraid of from the very instant she'd first learned that Heath was dead. It had driven her insane and she was finally realizing for it herself. He would never really be dead for her. He would never really be gone. He wasn't going to let her move on. He wasn't going to let her forget.

Her eyes were still burning with the unshed tears and she pressed her fingers over them, as if to rub them out. Her chest was heaving still, but now with dry sobs,

"But…" she murmured brokenly, "I don't want to…I don't….I can't forget…I can't for_get_!"

Drawing her hands away from her eyes, Cat used her arms to hug herself, as if to shut out the rest of the world. She allowed her eyes to shut.

She shuddered.

It was happening again. She could feel Him. His presence was so tangible to her she could almost smell Him- that earth, soap scent that would always belong to Him and Him alone. It was almost making her heady with emotion.

How could she still feel Him so strongly when He was gone?

Cat opened her eyes. She knew that it was useless, that no matter how strongly she could feel His presence He wasn't there. She knew that when she turned, she would be met with nothing but the air and the raw, aching hurt of reality. She knew that.

But she turned anyway.

And suddenly… He was there.

* * *

Cat was unable to move. The blood was pounding in her head, making her feel lightheaded. She could hear herself breathing- shallow and quiet.

She stared across the balcony in silence.

That was Heath's face. Those were his eyes, his mouth, his hair. Everything about him was as she had remembered it to be- even the way he was looking at her, as if he wanted to memorize every single detail of her face. He stood absolutely still in the darkness, the porch light from the building giving a small, yellow backlight against his silhouette.

Cat knew that she was imagining it. Imagining him. She remembered that in all of her dreams, Heath was always walking away from her, to a place she could never reach him. If it were real, if that Heath was real, would he have started walking towards her?

But then, when he was no more than three steps away from her, Cat's eyes met with his, and she stopped wondering about anything.

Their eyes met, and suddenly she stopped thinking.

Cat's knees buckled, and then she couldn't feel her knees anymore. She was falling, dropping towards the ground.

But then, the illusion of Heath crossed the three steps between them in one stride. He caught and gripped her arms in his hands and roughly pulled her up, against his chest.

Cat gasped as her head tipped back and suddenly their faces were mere inches away from one another. She still couldn't feel her knees, but she knew that she was standing- or rather, leaning into the firm chest. The buttons of his leather coat were digging in her skin. The grip of his hands on her arms was tight- so tight it was painful. The green of his eyes was as startling and piercing as ever.

She whispered the desire that was echoing in her head, "Say my name…"

Cat wasn't even sure of why this was so important, but she knew that if she could hear that, she would know. She would know whether or not all of it was a dream or not.

She repeated the command, her voice nearly breaking, "Say my name."

He was silent for a long time, and Cat had already begun to reassure herself of her earlier suspicions. But then, he said it,

"Cat."

At that moment, Cat knew beyond any question that all of it was real.

Heath was real. He was really alive. And he was really there, gripping her by the arms and looking down into her eyes.

Something in Cat's face cracked, and then the tears spilled down her cheeks, "Oh _God_-" she whispered hoarsely. "Oh my _God_…" It was all she could manage to even say.

"Catherine?"

Isabella was standing in the doorway of the balcony, looking stunning in a tight red dress that hugged her body perfectly, showing off her tanned legs and arms.

"Well there you two are!" she strolled over to them, a wry smile at her lips, "See?" she said to Cat, "I told you it was important! You could have knocked me over with a pin earlier today when I came to the gallery and saw this fella standing there! Now aren't you glad you came? " She paused then, noticing that Cat and Heath were still staring into each other's eyes and that Heath was still holding Cat by the arms. Clearing her throat, she began again, "Um… am I…interrupting something here?"

Cat felt Heath's grip on her arms loosen, but she still couldn't manage to tear her eyes away from his. She felt an irrational, bizarre fear that if she looked away, he would disappear and she would wake up and it would have all been a dream. At that moment, she felt as though she didn't ever want to stop looking at him.

Heath turned his head to look down at Isabella, who in spite of her high heels, still stood a few good inches below him.

"Yes." He answered steadily, "Yes, you were…." He gave a light shrug, "But it is your place, isn't it? That gives you the right."

Isabella flashed a rueful grin at him, "Good point. Besides, as my newest artist I do have to keep tabs on you, you know. It's my responsibility to make sure you're comfortable, and at ease. I can't do that if you're disappearing every five seconds, can I?"

"Don't worry." Heath said to Isabella, He looked back at Cat, an unreadable expression on his face, "I can guarantee you that I won't be disappearing anywhere anytime soon." A muscle flexed in his jaw and Cat supposed he seemed to just fall short of a smile. She didn't remember Heath ever making a facial expression like that. She didn't remember that look in his eyes, that pose and demeanor he took as he stood there. It was like he _was_ Heath, but then… he wasn't. How could he be Heath and still be so calm when they hadn't seen one another for over five years? What was it about him that seemed so different?

"What do you think, Catherine?" Isabella asked. She reached out and gave a small tug on Heath's leather jacket, still flashing him a brilliant grin, "Is he telling the truth? Or will he try and make a break for it and disappear for another five years?"

"I don't say anything that I don't mean." Heath answered before Cat could even speak. "If I say I'm not going anywhere….that means I'm not going anywhere."

Isabella's grin only deepened, "Well that's good news." She murmured after a moment or two had passed, "I'm looking forward to seeing more of you now that you're here to stay…"her gaze flickered down over his torso, then rose back up to meet his eyes, "_Much_ more."

Cat looked over at Isabella then, her concentration on Heath broken by the tone of her sister in law's voice. She recognized it- she'd heard it all too many times before in the past when Isabella had been flirting with the latest man who'd caught her attention.

And now she was using that tone with Heath…

A frown began to crease Cat's brow, but before she could even try to process the thoughts entering her head she heard her name being called and looked in the direction the voice had come from.

_Edgar… _

He stood in the doorway of the balcony, very still as he looked straight at Heath. His face and posture were absolutely rigid, and Cat was reminded of the way Edgar had always looked in those days when his father had been in the hospital. In a matter of seconds he looked as though a ton of bricks had been dropped on top of his shoulders.

The two of them stared at one another in a silence that was thick enough to cut with a knife, and even Isabella seemed able to sense it.

Edgar looked tired and weary. But even in spite of that, his blue eyes were glowing strangely- as if he were a soldier facing a stronger enemy, but was nevertheless willing to fight to the bitter end.

Heath's face betrayed nothing.

"Look who it is, Edgar!" Isabella said exuberantly, "Heath's come back, he wasn't dead after all!"

Edgar immediately came over to Cat, but instead of taking her hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side. Cat noticed the firm grip he kept on her and the way he seemed to stand a little ways in front of her, as if he were trying to block her from Heath.

"I can see that, Isabella." He said quietly. He gave a short, abrupt nod in Heath's direction, "Hello, Heath."

Heath nodded back at him in reply. His gaze was steady and serene- a stark contrast to Edgar's tense one.

"This is certainly a surprise. All these years we never thought we'd see you again."

"No," Heath answered, "I'm sure you didn't expect that…" he tilted his head sideways a little, ending cryptically, "Among other things."

She glanced up at Edgar and saw his jaw tighten, the way it did when he was angry. That, and the tone of Heath's voice that let Cat know that this conversation was excluding her and Isabella, they may as well have not even been in the room. This was between Heath and Edgar.

"You've been gone a long time." Edgar continued, "Where were you?"

Heath didn't answer for a moment, "Here and there." He finally replied, "For a while, I didn't even really know where I was. It didn't really matter. I went where I could paint or draw and make some money. The places eventually just started looking the same."

"You've been traveling then!"Isabella broke in, her cheery voice stark and out of place in the general atmosphere, "That's great! Good for you for finally taking a hint from Catherine and getting out of that shit splat of a town!"

"Isabella-" Edgar began, but Heath shook his head,

"No. No, she's right…it _was _time for me to leave there."

"And why wasn't it 'time' for you to come here to New York?" she asked ruefully, "We could have had this art opening years ago- your art is exactly the kind that collectors have been interested in for years now!"

Heath was quiet then, his gaze returning back to Cat. "I was waiting." He murmured, "I had to wait."

"Wait for what?" Isabella asked him. He still didn't look at her as he replied,

"I was waiting."

The gaze in his eyes was making Cat's stomach lurch and her eyes burn. She was relieved- _so_ relieved, so happy to see Heath alive. To know that he hadn't been dead all this time was more than she could have ever asked for.

And still…still…

The relief was tempered with a bittersweet grief and frustration.

Heath was alive. He had been alive all this time, waiting for her.

And she had married Edgar.

"Catherine?" she started at the sound Isabella's voice, "Are you alright?"

She blinked twice blankly, "Wha- what?"

"You look so sad. You haven't said a single word since I got out here. What's the matter?" Isabella gave a little chuckle, "For God's sake, Heath's alive! You should be doing Snoopy dances right about now!"

Cat shifted uncomfortably on her feet, looking down at the ground. She couldn't bring herself to look up at either Heath or Edgar. She knew if she did she was going to break down crying right there in front of all of them.

"I'm…I'm fine." It came out as a half murmur and a half whisper, and she had to swallow hard as soon as the words escaped her lips. "It's just…it's only…" Dashing her hand across her eyes, Cat shook her head, "Would you ex-excuse me for a few minutes?" Without another word, she pulled herself out of Edgar's grip and swept past Isabella and Heath, going back inside to the gallery, ignoring her husband's calls after. Her eyes brimmed over from the tears and all around her blurred, but Cat didn't care. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd towards the door.

When she'd left the balcony, Edgar had called after her. When he saw that she wasn't going to stop, he immediately went back inside after her.

Heath and Isabella watched Cat's retreating figure disappear into the crowd inside, then Edgar's as he went inside as well.

Heath took one step towards the entrance to the gallery, then abruptly stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze remained on Cat as she stumbled and shoved her way to the front door of the gallery, and then when she was gone from his view, his eyes still stayed on the last spot she had been. . His face was unreadable, but a single muscle worked in his jaw.

"You still want her."

He gave a small, brief start as Isabella's hand slipped onto his shoulder."What?" he asked.

She smiled at him wistfully, "I said you still want her- don't you? After all this time…I can still see how badly you want her in your eyes." It didn't even sound as though she was asking a question, but instead stating a fact. Heath didn't answer, but it didn't seem to matter. Isabella gave a shrug, "That's a shame." She said, "Do you wanna know something funny? When I was getting ready for tonight…I don't know. I guess I was actually getting the idea that maybe after the art showing got done, you and I could-" she paused then, catching herself. She shook her head with a tight grin, "Oh well. We can't win them all, can we?" She looked up into Heath's eyes, and suddenly her facial expression changed. The smile faded from her lips. Her eyes searched and seemed to become lost in his gaze. They stared at each other for a few moments. Isabella swallowed hard and licked lips that suddenly felt very dry.

Almost unconsciously, her hand came up from her side, reaching towards Heath's head. Just as the fingertips grazed the tip of his hair, Isabella suddenly snatched her hand back, blinking as if awakening from a reverie,

"Sorry." She mumbled, feeling her face begin to heat up. "I'm sorry about that."

Heath said nothing, still looking at her in that indecipherable stare.

"I guess we'd…better get back inside. You're…you're missing your own party!" She gave a small chuckle that sounded as nervous and cheerfully insincere as she felt and started back towards the entrance to the gallery. Twice, she looked back over her shoulder, meeting Heath's gaze with her own. It didn't seem to matter to her that he wasn't smiling. The look in his eyes alone was enough to draw and hold her attention…

Back outside, Cat hurried across the lawn and to the waiting car. Edgar was only steps behind her, running after her on the grass, and catching up just as she was about to bend down to get into the car,

"Catherine! Catherine will you wait just a minute!" he caught a hold of her arm and pulled her back, sighing exasperatedly. "Look at me, talk to me! Don't just run away like that."

When he saw that she was crying, he tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted the embrace, pushing him away,

"No," she muttered thickly, "Don't, just…just leave me alone."

"'Leave you alone?'" he repeated, his face wounded matching the wounded tone of his voice, "You're my wife and you're crying, why would I do that? Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because I don't want your help!" she suddenly screamed at him, "I don't want your help, and I need to be alone!"

"You want to be alone?" he suddenly snapped at her. His eyes were flashing with anger and the grip he had on her arm was squeezing so hard it was almost painful. "Is that what you want? Or do you want to run back in there," he jabbed his finger back in the direction of the art gallery, "And go and cry on _His_ shoulder?! Huh? Is that what you want?"

"Let go of me!" Cat ground out, writhing and twisting herself out of his arms. She threw herself into the car and shut the door behind her, locking it as fast as she could. Edgar immediately began pounding on the window and jerking the door handle, shouting at her to unlock it, but she ignored him.

"Go! Just go! Drive!" she called out raggedly to the driver. She leaned her head back against the seat and allowed her eyes, trying to shut out all around her in the darkness beneath her lids.

* * *

Hours later, when it was very late, Cat's car pulled up in front of the Linton mansion.

Though there was a small hint of redness around her eyes, Cat's face was dried of its tears. Her face was calm, and composed, and when the car rolled to a stop, she immediately got out and went inside the house.

It was darkened and quiet as she expected it to be. She stepped out of her heels and climbed the staircase, going down the hallway as softly as she could.

She opened the door to her and Edgar's bedroom and went inside. She paused just after shutting the door behind her.

Edgar was sitting on the balcony outside the room, looking out into the street. His head turned when she came inside. He looked tired, but that wasn't what made her wince with guilt- it was the pain in his soft, blue eyes that did that.

"You're back late." He said quietly. The tone of his voice was somber, but calm.

Cat hung there by the door, not knowing what to say. Finally she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm so-"

"Don't say it." Edgar interrupted, "Don't say that you're sorry, because you don't mean it. I think we both know that by now." He turned his head away to look back down over the street, "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

She shrugged again, "I don't know. I just…I had to be alone so I could get a chance to-"

"Think." He nodded, "Yes. I know. I understand. "

Cat frowned a little in confusion, "You what?"

Edgar licked his lips tentatively, then nodded to the chair adjacent to his, "Sit down, Catherine."

She obeyed, giving a little shiver that was from both the wind and her nervousness.

Edgar was silent for a long time, keeping his eyes on the skyline in front of them. Finally, he spoke, "I'm not an idiot about this, Catherine. You understand? I'm not."

"Edgar-"

"I know what it was that you two shared together all those years. I know that it was love. I know that he left loving you, and that he still loves you now. And…" Edgar stopped, steeling himself before murmuring, "And I know that you still love him."

Cat tried to speak again, but he only shook his head, not giving her the chance,

"No. Don't deny it. You do. We know you do…" he was quiet again for a few moments before continuing, "But I think…I think that you still love me too."

"Edgar, I _do_ love you-"

"For a long time I didn't think I could live with knowing that you loved him while you loved me. I didn't think it was possible for two people to occupy one heart. Or maybe…maybe I didn't think I was strong enough for that. I don't know." He shook his head, "Listen to me Catherine. I love you. I've always loved you, and I always will. Nothing's going to change that…" he looked up at her then, and she saw a flicker of cold determination in his eyes, "But I'm not going to share you with him. I can live with anything else but I'm not going to live with that."

Cat stared at him, silenced. He didn't seem to notice, only continuing,

"You married me. You're my wife. But if that's something you regret now that you know he's alive, then I want you to tell me straight out. Right now."

Cat shook her head, stunned, "No!" she breathed in horror, "_No_! How could- how could you even ask me something like that?!"

"Don't do that." He said to her stonily. He didn't seem affected by her disbelief at all. What's more he almost seemed irritated by it. "Don't treat me like a fool. I'm not going to let you do that to me again, Catherine. This time I just want the truth."

"Edgar, I love you!" she reached out and grasped his hand, but it stayed still and limp within her fingers. "I love you. I married you because I love you and want to be with you. That's the truth. You know it is."

He stared at her for a long moment, "I want to believe you." He murmured, "You don't have any idea how much I want to believe that you're telling me the truth."

Cat got up out of the chair and knelt down beside Edgar, still holding his hand as she looked up into his face, "What can I do to make you believe me?" she asked.

His fingers stroked her cheek, grazed her temple, and played into her hair, "Tell me that you love me." He said gently.

"I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Tell me that you'll never leave me."

She swallowed the egg that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, "I'll never leave you."

Both of Edgar's hands were stroking her hair now. His eyes were searching her face intently, as if there were some secret written there he was determined to decipher.

"Come here…" he whispered, taking a hold of her arms and pulling her up into the chair with him on his lap.

Cat tried to ignore the discomforting sinking she felt inside when she felt Edgar's hands on her body, his mouth against the stalk of her neck. She shut her eyes and let him do what he wanted. In a few minutes, when they were back inside the bedroom and stretched out on the bed, she even helped him along with it, pretending to enjoy his touch, and the feel of him inside of her.

She kept her eyes squeezed shut. It was like the first time that she and Edgar had made love. Not because of his enthusiasm or ardor, or even the sex itself.

It was the way she closed her eyes and was still able to see Heath so clearly. It was just like that first time when his eyes had been so clear and vivid in her mind. It was the same way that his presence seemed to fill the room so completely. Cat had almost forgotten what it had felt like.

She was crying by the time it was over- silent, fat tears that fell down her cheeks in slow motion. The darkness hid them from Edgar, and Cat waited until she was sure that he was asleep to allow the sobs to rise up in her throat.

She rolled onto her far side of the bed and held herself, burying her head into her pillow.

She wished that He was dead. That He really had died in that fire. She wished that she'd never had to see Him again. How could she even bear to look at Him when things had turned out like this?

She was married to Edgar. She was Edgar's wife. How could Heath still- _still_- make her feel so guilty, so wrong about that five long years later?

Cat whispered his name to the unresponsive, unsympathetic darkness, "Heath…Heath…"

She could feel him again. All around her, inside of her. Cat couldn't explain it, but she just knew, she could just feel that he was so close to her.

She eased herself out of the bed and went over the window. She paused when her hand was at the curtain, feeling a stab of foolishness. But she couldn't help it. She had to see.

Cat pulled back the corner of the curtain, being careful not to allow too much of the light from the streetlamps outside into the bedroom to wake Edgar. She looked down into the street, just in front of the house.

He was there.

He sat on the motorcycle just beside the curb, looking up directly at the bedroom window- directly up at her. As if he was expecting her to be standing there.

Cat's mouth felt dry and papery. She licked her lips, as she clenched the curtain in her moist palm tightly.

She knew why Heath was there. He knew that she knew why he was there…and it wasn't so that he could sit outside her window and stare at her either.

His eyes were speaking to her, beckoning to her- just like they always had before.

Cat hesitated for a few moments, glancing back at her husband, sleeping in their bed. Then she looked back out the window at Heath.

It only took a few seconds more for her to make up her mind.

She dressed herself silently, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Within minutes, she was slipping out the door. _Like a criminal_, Cat thought to herself, cringing from the guilt she felt at the thought of Edgar. Edgar, who asked nothing more of her than to love and be loyal to him.

She _had_ been loyal to him. For five years she'd been a loyal, supportive wife to him.

There had only been one part, one small part of her that she'd kept hidden from him all those years. The part of her that she locked away for what she had thought was forever.

Now that she was faced with the opportunity to unearth that part of her, and all of the sacred feelings inside of it, Cat was filled with a guilty apprehension that plagued at her relentlessly.

And yet, it was tempered with an impatient, selfish hunger. She felt so hungry to relive the glorious, wonderful abandon that she'd had in the days of her girlhood- the abandon she'd had when her world had been nothing more than her and Heath.

She wanted more than anything to feel that abandon again. She _needed_ to.

She was outside of the house now, slowly walking down the stone steps to the sidewalk, to Heath.

He didn't get off the motorcycle at seeing her. He only sat there, still and silent. Cat came close, very close to him. They stared at each other, their faces betraying nothing, and everything. Cat's hands were clenched so hard in her jacket pockets that she could feel her fingernails cutting into the skin of her palms.

If she would have been paying more attention, she would have seen that the fists that Heath used to grip the handlebars of the motorcycle were pure white.

But she wasn't paying more attention, and she didn't see his fists. All she could look at was his face, his eyes. She wanted so badly to get lost in those eyes again.

When she didn't think she could bear it for another moment, Cat took a step forward and without a word, climbed on the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around Heath's waist.

He didn't seem surprised at all by it. Instead, Heath turned the ignition in the engine, revved it once, and released the clutch. The motorcycle took off down the street, quietly at first, then louder as Heath gunned the engine faster and faster away from the house.

Cat didn't look back once.

* * *

They sat in the booth in the very back of the diner, away from the eyes of anyone who didn't make a concerted effort to see them.

Cat sat on one side, Heath, on the other. She was keeping her hands beneath the table, clenched together in her lap so that he couldn't see that they were still shaking.

Heath had taken them far away from the mansion. They were in a part of the city that Cat had never even been in before. But she hadn't noticed that. Her mind had been too full to even care.

They hadn't spoken a single word to one another on the way there. And now, ten minutes after they'd arrived and had only ordered cups of coffee from the waitress, neither Cat nor Heath had still said anything yet.

It wasn't that Cat had nothing to say. That couldn't have been further from the truth. She had plenty she wanted to say. She wanted to speak, to ask, shout, scream at Heath. She wanted to find a way to let him know how badly he had hurt her in staying away. She wanted to know where he had been and why he had stayed away. She wanted to make him swear that he would never leave her again.

And yet she said nothing. Not because she didn't want to, but because it seemed as though that was what she should do.

If only he would stop looking at her like that…

Cat's expression slackened, revealing a crack in the guarded armor of her face. She swallowed hard and licked her lips, her voice coming out no louder than a murmur,

"Why?" She gave a small shake of her head, her voice cracking a little, "_Why_?"

"You know why." Heath answered, "You know."

She felt the frustration building inside of her, and Cat tried to fight against it, "I was young." She muttered, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, "I was young and stupid…and I didn't even realize what I was saying until…until it was too late."

Heath remained silent at that, saying nothing.

"I didn't really mean it. I did and said a lot of things then that I didn't mean."

"You meant it." He replied, "You wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"That's not true." Cat said firmly, beginning to sound a little angry, "That's not true."

One of his brows rose a little, "You wouldn't have married him if you didn't mean it."

It was Cat's turned to be silent. She looked down into her lap. "I waited for you to come back. I waited and waited for so long, but you didn't come. I hired a private investigator and searched everywhere. Even when they told me you weren't coming back, I still waited. And you still didn't come back. Then they told me about the fire-" She broke off then, catching her breath in her throat. She shook her head, her voice trembling. By the time she looked back up at Heath, her eyes were glistening, "I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead!"

Heath didn't seem affected by them at all. "And you believed them?"

"Wh-what?"

"You believed them when they told you I was dead?"

Cat hesitated, feeling the beginnings of foreboding guilt build within her. She found herself remembering the day of her wedding. Henry had been there- what had he said?

_You don't really believe that, do you Cat? Not deep down. You can fool Edgar in thinking you've bought into that- but you know it's not true…don't you? Late at night, when you're lying awake in and bed and all is so quiet that you can hear what's going on inside of you- that's when you can just __feel __that's he alive, can't you? You can't even explain it to yourself, but you __just know__ he's out there somewhere."_

Cat allowed her eyes to close with a quiet shudder. She combed her fingers through her hair, holding them there for a long moment.

"Yeah." She whispered hoarsely, the lie tasting bitter and foul in her mouth, "Yeah I did."

"Why?" he asked her, "Why did you believe that?"

She was swiftly losing the battle to keep the tears at bay, but by that point, Cat didn't care anymore. She shook her head back and forth, "I don't know." She ground out.

Heath nodded, "Yes you do, Cat. You do know. You believed it because believing them was easier than holding on to me…you made your choice."

"Don't do that!" she suddenly snapped at him, "Don't you _dare_ do that! Do you think that there was anything easy about what I did? About what you put me through? Do you know what I thought about _doing_ to myself when I thought you were dead?" A single sob escaped her throat. She caught her breath, stifling the rest inside.

"I'm sorry." She said at last, "I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for everything that I've done. Heath, if I could change it all, if I could take it back, then I would. But I can't! I can't change what's happened, but I still want to know that you forgive me. I _need_ to know that."

Heath looked at her for a long time. His expression was unreadable, but she knew that he was thinking by the way the muscle in his jaw continued to twitch.

"No." he answered quietly, "No, I don't forgive you."

Cat shook her head in wounded bewilderment, "Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

She rubbed at her eyes viciously, leaning forward a little across the table, "Then why are you here?" she hissed, "Why did you come back? For revenge on Edgar, on me?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Do you really want to punish me, to make me miserable, just because I married him?"

He nodded again, "Yes."

"Why?"

Heath was quiet then, saying nothing for a long moment. He looked away from her and out the window into the darkness of the night. "Because you deserve it." He replied quietly, "And because when I was away, I finally learned how to I hate you."

"I don't believe you," Cat said, trying to mask the sting that his words had upon her. "I don't believe that."

Heath didn't look back at her, but after another moment or two had passed, he spoke, "It's true. I did. There were times when I was away…that I thought I would go back home, when I didn't think I could go another second the way that I was living. But then I would remember what you said, and what you did to me that night…and the hate that I felt made me stay away. It made me stay strong."

"And now?" Cat asked bitterly. Heath did turn his head to look at her then. A single tear fell down her cheek. She dashed it away. "I remember a night that you told me that seeing my face was like air entering your lungs. I remember a night when you told me that if you lost me, you lost everything. Did I really make you forget about all of that?"

Heath said nothing. He was looking out the window again, but Cat knew that he wasn't really staring at anything.

She slid out of the booth and began walking away towards the door. Halfway there, she stopped. Looking back in Heath's direction, Cat turned around and went back to the booth was sitting at. His gaze was averted downward and she came to stand over him, her shadow falling across the tabletop,

"Why didn't you stay to hear the rest?" she asked abruptly.

Heath glanced up at her, "Hear the rest of what?"

"The rest of what I said that night when I was talking to Ellie." She replied, "Why didn't you stay to hear all of it? Do you know what could have happened if you'd just-" She broke off then, suddenly finding herself unable to continue. She didn't know why, she just couldn't say the rest.

"What _did_ you say?" he asked her.

Cat shook her head bleakly. "Just take me home." She turned back around and walked towards the door.

She'd only gone a few steps, when suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her, and a second later, a firm, tight grip grasp her by the elbow. Cat looked back in surprise, "What are you-" she murmured, but Heath said nothing, not even looking at her as he firmly steered the two of them to the entrance of the diner and back outside into the night.

Almost the moment they were outside, Heath used his grip on Cat's arm to roughly jerk her around so that she was facing him. Cat gave a small gasp of surprise, then another silent one at the look in his eyes.

"It's your fault." He said. His voice was cold, but there was an air of accusation in it. "Do you hear me? All of this is your fault."

Cat stared at him, "My fault?" she repeated incredulously, "How is it all my fault? You're the one who left! You're the one who-"

"You left me first." He cut her off, "You pushed me away. No matter what I did, how hard I tried, you just pushed me away. "

"And I apologized for it. Didn't I apologize for that? What more do you want me to do?"

"You thought that I wasn't good enough for you," Heath went right on talking as if he hadn't even heard her question, "I didn't have Edgar Linton's money, so you didn't think I was good enough to even love you."

Cat grimaced then as she felt his grip on her arms tighten painfully, squeezing and twisting at her skin. She saw Heath's jaw clench,

"Why?" he muttered roughly, "Why wasn't I good enough for you? _Why_?"

"You're hurting me!" She twisted back and forth in his grip, cringing against the way his touch chafed the skin on her arms.

"I _want_ to hurt you!" He answered evenly, "Don't you get that that's the point?!" He gave her a firm shake at the last word. "Do you have any idea what _I_ felt when I heard you'd married him? Do you know what I thought about doing to you? _Do you_?"

"I thought you were dead." She protested weakly, "Heath, I thought you were dead, or else I swear I wouldn't have-"

"I don't care." He cut her off again unyieldingly, "I don't care about any of that. You were mine. You gave yourself to me before you even knew his name. You weren't free."

"I'm sorry!" She cried at him, "I'm sorry!"

Heath shook his head, "No. Not yet you're not." He replied at length, "But you're going to be." He released her arms and turned from her, taking a few steps away. He looked up at the empty, clear night sky with hard, unreadable eyes.

Cat lingered where she stood for a few moments, involuntarily shivering. She stared at him, feeling a sinking in her stomach.

Was this how things were going to be between them now? Was this all that was left of the boy that'd she fallen in love with so many years ago- angry bitterness?

There had to be more. Cat knew that there was still more left inside of him.

A resolve entered her eyes- the same kind of stubborn determination that had been in them so often when she was growing up. She slowly walked towards Heath, coming around so that she stood directly in front of him. Her hands reached up and touched his face, "Don't do that." She murmured, "Don't." Her fingers stroked and moved against his skin, brushing across his hair. It was as if she were trying to remember him through her touch- remember and memorize him.

"It's been five years. We don't want things to be like this…not after five years."

"Yes I do." He replied instantly, "Exactly like this."

But Cat shook her head, "No. You don't mean that. I know you don't mean that." Her fingertips were touching his sharply defined cheeks, his chin, his lips.

Heath was unresponsive to her touch, remaining still and looking down at her through even more unresponsive eyes, "You can't stop me." He said, "Understand? You won't stand in the way of what I want."

Cat was coming closer, her head leaning back as she looked into his eyes, "What about me?" Her voice was soft and yielding, "Don't you still want that?"

He studied her in silence, his emerald irises still cloaked in mystery. Still though, he didn't pull away when she wrapped her arms around him, when she rose up on her tiptoes to bring her face close to his.

God, why did he have to seem even better looking than she remembered him to? Why was he still able to make her heartbeat speed up? Why did her stomach still curl up tight when she looked deep into his eyes?

"Do you know what I want?" she whispered, her mouth moving closer to his. Heath didn't answer, his eyes remaining open as she drew nearer. The tips of her lips were brushing against his now. Cat slowly let her lips touch his, as if she were introducing her mouth to his for the first time. She kissed his bottom lip first, then his top one- pecks given as though they were little secrets. Her lips moved away from his mouth to the rest of his face, flitting across his skin with patient passion. Cat continued giving the small kisses for a few moments, her eyes closed in an almost bittersweet abandon.

She hadn't kissed him for five years. For five long years, she had thought she would never be able to kiss Heath again. She didn't care if he was still angry at her- not when she was kissing him again for the first time in give years.

Suddenly she felt a cold, tight grip clamp onto her face and jerk her chin straight. Her eyes flew open in surprise and then she was looking into Heath's eyes again. The way he stared at her made the breath catch in her throat.

For a long time he said nothing. It almost seemed as though he were looking for some hidden indecipherable code that he couldn't find in her face. When at last he spoke, his voice was hard, and almost angry, "You're a good actress. You know that? A fucking good actress."

And then his mouth had swooped down and was furiously moving against hers in a brusque kiss, before she even had a chance to reply.

"Mmm!" Cat let a sound emit from the back of her throat as his lips smashed against hers. His tongue was thrusting against them, rudely barging its way into her mouth like a thief barging its way into a house. Heath was gripping the back of her head so tightly she couldn't move it an inch.

He was kissing her so hard it almost threw her off her own balance. To keep it, Cat staggered backwards, further and further until she felt her back hit the wall of the side of the diner. "Umph," she let out a small grunt at the feel of the roughened bricks. She felt herself running out of air against the almost suffocating pressure of Heath's lips and managed to break her lips away for a matter of seconds,

"W-wait," she gasped, "I can't brea-" But that was all she was able to get out. Heath silenced her with another rough kiss, and Cat gave a small moan as she felt her lips bruise from the vehemence of it. His hands were pinning her to the wall by her shoulders, making it almost impossible to move at all, even for her to try to touch him with her own hands. She was trying to meet Heath's passion, but was finding it increasingly hard to do when she began to feel as though it wasn't passion that was making him kiss her like that, hold her in that way. At least not the kind of passion she felt. It was something else…

Just when she felt the inky darkness of suffocation begin to sweep over her, she felt Heath's lips abruptly jerk away from hers. It took Cat a few moments to even regain a hold of herself. She swayed a little on her feet, feeling dizzy and weak in her knees. As if he could sense that she was moments away from falling, Heath reached out and held her by the arms, keeping her up. He searched her face again, seeming to share none of her exhaustion from the kiss.

"What _I want_…is revenge." He said quietly. "You can't change that…and you can't change me. Get that through your head." Releasing her then, he turned away and took a few steps back towards the curb to his motorcycle. "C'mon." he said, "You're going back now."

"N-no." she stuttered, "No, I don't want to go-"

I said you're going back." His voice cut through the air like a knife. Cat didn't try to object again, far too surprised at the coldness in his voice- a coldness she didn't even recognize from him.

He was climbing back on the motorcycle, starting the engine. She hung back for a few moments, more watching him. He noticed and turned around to look back at her.

For a brief moment, Cat felt a deep, hollow thud in her belly. It was almost like a foreboding presence that settled upon her like a ton of bricks. For that brief moment, she suddenly felt more sad and grieved than she could ever remember feeling before.

But then, the moment passed, the foreboding left her belly and everything seemed clear again.

Heath was alive. She may have been married, but he was alive. And suddenly that made everything else seem unimportant.

She went forward and climbed onto the motorcycle behind him, clasping his waist with her arms. As Heath began driving down the street, she tucked her chin into the hollow where his neck met his shoulder. She noticed that he turned his head slightly in her direction for a few moments, before turning it back straight again.

When they got back to the Linton mansion and Heath pulled up to the curb, Cat climbed off and started to climb the steps to go back into the house But then she stopped, and went back. She expected him to kiss her again- but all it took was one look into his eyes to let her know that he wasn't going to.

"I love you." She said quietly, "I love you."

Heath made no answer at first. The lone muscle twitched in his jaw and she saw his Adam's apple bob once as he swallowed.

"We'll see about that." He finally replied. Then without another word, he revved the engine and took off down the street, leaving her standing on the sidewalk alone.


	41. Chapter 41: The Proposition

_A/N: I'm sorry for the delay you guys. RL issues like college and work get in the way of me and my writing. This update isn't as long as I would like it to be, but I feel so guilty for keeping you waiting that I decided to post what I've written so far. Be rest assured, there is more coming. Thank you for your patience with me and the story. Read and review as always, -- Jess_

**Chapter Forty One: The Proposition**

Cat knocked on Ellie's bedroom door gently, not waiting to hear a reply before she hastily slipped inside. The light on the bedside table was on and she could already see the older woman stirring awake in the bed.

Ellie squinted at her in the dimness, "Cat?" she murmured, "What time is it, hon? What's wrong?"

Cat stayed where she was against the door, her mouth moving but no words coming out. She smiled shakily, her eyes beginning to well up.

"Ellie…it's Heath." She whispered, "He's…he's… not…"

Ellie seemed to understand. Her face relaxed into a wistful realization, "He's alive." she said quietly, sounding as though she were stating a fact rather than answering a question. Cat didn't seem to notice that however, coming over to the side of the bed and laying her head against Ellie's shoulder as she hugged her,

"Oh God," she murmured, "Oh my God, I just can't believe it's true!" She raised her head up,, "All these years I thought he was dead- and he was really alive the entire time!"

"Then why didn't he come to us?" Ellie asked. She wasn't smiling, and Cat heard the suspicious, flat tone of her voice, "Why is he suddenly deciding after five years that he suddenly wants you to know that he exists again?"

Cat shook her head, tasting the lie through her teeth as she replies, "I don't know."

Even before the words were finished passing through her mouth, she could tell that Ellie could see straight through the lie. The stare the older woman fixed upon her made Cat squeamish. She didn't even know why she even tried- Ellie would always know if she was telling the truth or not. Cat wondered how much else she knew: did she know that the bruises on Cat's lips weren't put there by Edgar? Did she know the dangerous, unspeakable thoughts that were passing through Cat's mind that very moment?

Ellie looked at her in thick silence for only a few minutes more before choosing to speak again, "Did you sleep with him?" she asks, the question sounding as casual as if she were asking if Cat was on her period or if she was asking what color the sky was.

Cat shut her eyes with a low sigh and stood up from the bed, going to stand at the window. She pushed back the curtain a little, and gripped the cloth tightly. "No." she finally answers in a voice so soft she can barely hear her reply. "I didn't sleep with him."

"Then what did you do?"

Cat didn't answer for a few moments, chewing the inside of her lip guiltily. "I'm married, Ellie." She said dully.

"That's right, Cat." Ellie retorted matter of factly, her voice sharpening a little, "You're married."

She turned around, hugging her arms tightly, "You don't trust me?"

Ellie shrugged her shoulders, "What difference does that make? Do you trust yourself?"

Cat's jaw tightened in frustration, "Just because I'm married, doesn't mean that I can't see him. I thought he was dead, Ellie. I thought-"

"You don't need to justify yourself to me." Ellie cut in, "I'm not your husband."

Cat winced at the mention of Edgar, "He…understands." She muttered lamely, knowing exactly how weak the excuse sounded.

"He loves you. He loves you more than anything in the world, Cat."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Cat burst out frustratingly, "Do you think that's something I could ever forget?"

"I hope it isn't, Cat. I hope that's something you never forget."

Cat shook her head stubbornly, as if to tell Ellie that she didn't understand. And she didn't, Cat could see that. There had been a time, long ago that she had thought that Ellie was the only person who did understand the feelings she had for Heath. Ellie had seemed to understand and sympathize with her, when Cat had had to deny her feelings for him for the sake of keeping them from her father.

But now, things were different. Ellie seemed different. She didn't seem to understand Cat's love for Heath anymore, and she didn't even seem to want to. It was as if Cat's feelings for him were something Ellie pitied her for, like the pity a concerned friend or relative had for a drinking or drug problem their loved one may have had.

Cat didn't want her pity. She didn't want her judgment. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't even need Ellie's understanding or approval either.

She could handle this on her own. She would.

Cat shook her head, suddenly feeling weary, "I'm going to bed. I'm sorry to wake you. Goodnight." When she was just about to go out the door, she stopped short as Ellie called out,

"Did he seem different to you?"

Cat turned around then, a light frown creasing her features, "What?"

"Did he seem different?" she repeated, "When you were with him, did he seem like the old Heath to you?"

Cat stared at her, thinking.

Different. What did she mean by different?

Heath looked different than he had five years ago she supposed. He'd become more muscular in the arms and chest- sturdier than the wiry, lean physique that she had been accustomed to for years. He'd cut the hair that used to hand in between his shoulder blades to the neck. His features seemed older. But besides that, he was the same. His eyes were the same piercing green- the face and voice still belonged to him.

Cat thought about his demeanor in the diner. He'd been quiet- very quiet. And though that was something that Heath could be at times while they were younger, that quietness had still possessed a certain openness to it then. His introversion back home hadn't made him unapproachably distant.

But in the diner, and even as he had kissed her, Cat could feel something different about Heath's withdrawal, about his demeanor. His quietness had changed- now that she thought about it, she would have even called it brooding. There was something in eyes this time that did seem to want to keep everyone around him away and at an arm's distance- even her. His eyes were suspiciously observant, seeming to take in all around him with a thinly veiled coldness that was piercing to the core.

Even the way he had kissed her was different- as if he was trying to punish her, rather than show affection.

Yes, she thought to herself. He did seem different. So familiar…and yet so very different than what he had been before.

Cat lingered where she stood for a few moments, not knowing what to say. So she said nothing, starting to turn around to leave, "I have to go," she mumbled under her breath.

"Cat." Ellie called out to her one more time, her voice gentler than before. "Be careful, alright?"

Cat shrugged, "I'm not afraid." She said quietly, though why she had said something like that, she had no idea.

"I'm afraid for you." Ellie replied. "And I just want you to be careful."

"What do you think is going to happen?" Cat asked, and a moment later, she wished that she hadn't. The air between them immediately became filled with an uneasy silence that was almost foreboding. The answer to her question never came, and to Cat it almost seemed worse than if she had received a bad answer. To try and run from the foreboding in the room, Cat turned around and went out without another word. When she shut the door, she leaned back against it and sighed heavily, rubbing her fingers over her eyes.

"Nothing's going to happen." She whispered to herself, "Nothing…" Even as she said the words, Cat knew they were a lie.

She knew, because the truth was, that she didn't want to be careful, and she did want something to happen.

* * *

And sure enough… that 'something' did happen.

It came a few weeks after the night at the art opening, in the early evening. Cat and Isabella were at home, while Edgar was working late at the office.

The doorbell rang. Cat was just getting out of her shower and tying her bathrobe at the waist. For a brief instant her heart lept,

Was it? She thought, Was it Him?

She hastily flung open the bathroom door and went out into the bedroom and over to a window overlooking the street outside.

Sure enough, there was the black motorcycle parked in the front. He was there.

Cat didn't wait another minute or even think to try to change into some clothes, hurrying out into the hallway and down the stairs to the front door.

Isabella had already beaten her to it. She reached the bottom step just as her sister in law was opening the door.

"Well! Look who it is!" Isabella exclaimed, her mouth spread into a gracious grin, "Is this a pleasant surprise, or what Catherine?"

Cat didn't answer, remaining where she was by the banister of the staircase. Her and Heath's eyes met with one another's and she saw the way his gaze flitted briefly across her torso. She suddenly wished she had thought to at least pull on a pair of jeans and shirt before coming down there. She wished that wasn't just wearing the terrycloth bathrobe with her hair still damp and her feet bare.

"I'm sorry." Heath said, sounding indifferent rather than the least bit apologetic, "I know it's late and unexpected...but would you mind if I came in for a few minutes?"

Isabella raised an eyebrow at him mischievously, "Well, that all depends." She replied, "Are you here for business… or just pleasure?"

Heath shrugged, "I like to think of them as one in the same in this case."

She laughed, "Well said. I think that answer's good enough to let him in, don't you Catherine?"

The three of them went into the Linton's enormous sitting room at the other end of the hall, Isabella taking a seat beside Heath on the sofa, while Cat chose a chair opposite from them.

"Can I get you a drink?" Isabella asked, "What's your poison?"

"Ice water." He replied, "Four cubes."

"What, are you a Boy Scout or something?" Isabella asked playfully as she went off in the direction of the kitchen, "Catherine, you want anything?"

Cat shook her head as she left, leaving her and Heath alone together. They looked at one another in silence for a few moments.

"You know, you just made her day." Cat said abruptly, "Isabella- you made her day in coming here. Ever since that damn art opening she hasn't been able to keep her mouth shut about you. I think she's got a crush."

"I'm sure her brother would appreciate that." He remarked, a hint of cynicism in his voice. "Where is he?"

"Working." She replied.

"This late?"

"He usually does. A born workaholic. Most of the time he doesn't come home before ten."

"I see. Is that convenient for you?"

Cat frowned, "What?"

"I asked if it was convenient for you." Heath replied, acting as if it was the most natural question in the world, "Do you enjoy him being gone?" the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile that made her uncomfortable, "Or do you miss him?"

"That's none of your business." She answered stiffly, knowing that she had in reality just answered the question she refused to answer anyway.

"How's Ellie?" he asked, "Is she feeling any better?"

"She's going to physical therapy. They tell me she's doing better. She looks a lot better than when she first had the stroke."

"I was surprised when I heard about that. Ellie was always so careful about her health."

"The doctors at the hospital told me it's the healthy ones that strokes usually happen to. It could have been worse though. She's lucky. Do you want to come upstairs to say hello?"

Heath shook his head.

"Why not?"

"She won't want to see me." He replied.

"That's stupid. Why would you think something like that?"

"She just doesn't want to see me, Cat." There was something about the way that he said it and the look in his eyes as he did that gave Cat that uneasy, foreboding feeling again. She couldn't explain it.

"I heard your art is selling well." She remarked to try and change the subject.

"It's selling." He replied indifferently, as if it didn't matter to him in the least.

"Think you'll be having another opening soon?"

"If my agent has anything to do with it. Him and your sister in law." Heath's voice had the slightest edge to it at the last part of his answer and Cat gave a small snicker.

"You know you're stuck with her from now on, don't you? She'll never let you open at any other studio in New York."

"I'm starting to get that feeling. Doesn't she have anything better to do with her time?"

"Are you kidding? She builds her time around men- her men and that little art studio."

"Is that what you think I am?" he asked her, crossing his legs casually and leaning back, "'One of her men'?"

Cat shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "What difference is that supposed to make to me?" she asked, silently cursing the brittle tone of her voice. Neither of them said anything for a long moment and she chewed the inside of her lip trying to keep back the question that was biting at her furiously. Finally, it just came out,

"Are you?"

Heath looked at her and started to answer, but stopped short as Isabella strolled back into the room, his water and a martini for herself in her hands.

"One ice water with four ice cubes for our pure-blooded Boy Scout," she said, handing it to him, "And one very dry martini with four olives for moi," She sat down beside him on the couch, even closer than she'd been before when she got up.

"Alright, Heath," she said, "Business before pleasure. What's this surprise visit all about?"

"A proposition." He replied, "A few days ago, I got a call from one of the buyers at the opening. He was the buyer of the Girl with Brown Eyes painting. You remember it, right?"

Isabella rolled her eyes with a smile, "How could I forget? It was the most popular painting at the opening- sold for a pretty penny, didn't you?"

"More than I expected it to. And it has the potential to help sell for more pretty pennies. In a manner of speaking that is."

"I don't understand."

"My agent tells me that the main reason that the buyer wanted the painting was because of the model in it. Apparently he wants more paintings with her in them, and is willing to pay quite a bit of money for them."

"Well what are you going to do about that?" Isabella asked, "Do you still know where the model is? Is she even real?"

"She's real alright. I'm just not sure if she'd say yes to the job."

"Well you'll never know if you don't ask."

Cat sat still and quiet in her chair, fighting the chill of the air against her skin. She'd become more and more uncomfortable the further the conversation went. Her mind was wandering back to those nights in Heath's room above the Heights when he'd painted her picture for the first time. The same painting had come back to present the two of them the opportunity to go through the process all over again. Almost as though nothing had changed.

And that was what she wanted, wasn't it? For things to go back to the way they were- as if nothing between them had ever changed…

Heath meanwhile, turned to look over at her, "Well, Cat?" he said, "How about it? You interested?"

While Cat paused before she would answer, Isabella looked between the two of them for a few moments before seeming to realize what was going on.

"Wait a minute," she said, "You- you mean…that's Catherine in those paintings?"

Heath nodded, "Yeah, it is." He smiled at her lightly, "Couldn't you tell?"

She gave a little laugh, "I mean…I guess they looked like her. I just didn't… make the connection." She gave another chuckle, but now the smile on Isabella's face was suddenly very tight and constricted, as if she was irritably embarrassed. "Well damn, Cat…" she remarked, "You should have told us you'd done that kind of modeling before you met Edgar… You certainly bared your all didn't you?"

Cat noticed the slightly sharpened tone of her voice at the last part and shot a brief glare at Isabella. She turned back to Heath instead, "I don't know." She replied, "My schedule with the agency is pretty tight right now. I'm working through most of the day."

Heath shrugged, "That shouldn't be much of a problem. My nights are open if yours are. And the sittings wouldn't have to be for that long. Two hours at the most."

Cat waited a few moments in silence, considering her options and which was the best decision to make.

She wouldn't pretend that she didn't know the reasons why agreeing would be a mistake. She had promised Ellie that she would be 'careful,' that she wouldn't hurt Edgar by being unfaithful. And she really did intend on trying to keep that promise.

And yet…yet..

She couldn't deny the existence of her desires. She couldn't ignore the tug and pulling of her heart- her heart that had locked away the love she had for Heath for over five years. That love was steadily pushing its way to the forefront of her heart and mind, making all else seem unimportant.

She looked back up at Heath then, her expression calm and determined, "Alright," she answered, "I'll do it."

Their gazes held with one another's for a long moment, before he nodded, "Okay, then."

Isabella chimed in, "Alright. I like it. I'm certainly looking forward to seeing the end results. We can start planning for the next opening soon, right Heath?"

He nodded, "Sure. My agent will call you about it." He looked over at Cat, "What's a good day for you?"

She shrugged, "Why not Thursday night?"

"Thursday. That's fine. I'll come pick you up around seven, will that work?"

"Sure, seven's ok."

He nodded again, "Done." Standing to his feet, he set the glass of water down on the table beside the chair, "I guess I'll be going then."

Isabella was almost immediately up on her feet, "Wait a minute, Heath," she protested, a coy smile already playing at her lips, "You said you were here for business _and _pleasure- what happened to the pleasure part of this little meeting?"

"Trust me," Heath answered, "This was a pleasure." The corner of his mouth tilted upwards slightly, and his gaze lingered with Isabella's. Cat watched rigidly, feeling a small twist in her stomach.

The two of them walked him to the door. "I'll keep in touch," Isabella was saying, "This sounds like quite the interesting project. If Catherine wasn't my sister in law, I think I'd be jealous of her!" She was smiling, but there was something in her smile that fell flat and insincere.

"You wouldn't like it anyway," Heath said, "It's long, tedious and boring for the model. Ask Cat, she'll tell you. You'd do better finding better things to do with your time."

"Oh I could think of a few," Isabella replied, "But then I'd have to risk dying of embarrassment if I ever let you know, if you get my meaning."

Heath smiled at her shortly, while Cat looked away and clenched her teeth. "Yeah," he said, "I get your meaning." He looked back at Cat, "I'll be around Thursday at seven to pick you up."

She nodded, "Yeah, fine."

"Night ladies." He turned around and walked down the steps to the curb where his motorcycle was waiting. Isabella and Cat stayed on the porch outside the front door, watching him drive away down the street. Isabella didn't speak until the motorcycle had turned the corner, keeping her gaze averted straight ahead,

"So… you posed nude for him." Her voice was cool, but thinly veiled with a hint of sharpness.

"That's right." Cat answered shortly.

"That must have been…fun."

"It was just like he said it was. Long, tedious-"

"And boring?" Isabella finished for her sarcastically, "Yeah, I'm sure it was…before you found something _better_ to do with your time that is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cat asked, defensiveness beginning to creep into her voice.

Isabella shook her head once, giving a small chuckle. "Nothing…does Edgar know that you're the one in all those paintings?"

Cat shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know." She replied after a few moments in silence, "Are you going to tell him?"

Her sister in law laughed sardonically again, "Is that what you think? No, Catherine. I won't tell Edgar about your dirty little secret. All of that's history now, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it-"

"And as for your new dirty little secret," Isabella kept on talking as if she didn't hear her, "Well, I don't think Edgar has to know about that either…just as long as you don't give me a reason to think that history's repeating itself…know what I mean?"

Cat did turn her head to look at her then, and their gazes held. Isabella still had the faint smile on her lips, but her eyes had gone very hard and determined. Cat glared back at her defiantly for a few long moments before looking back on the street,

"Yeah." She said tightly, "I know what you mean." She turned back around and walked back into the house without another word. Isabella lingered for a few more moments where she was, her smile widening a little,

"Good." She murmured under her breath, "Good."


	42. Chapter 42: Taken in Strides

_A/N: Update time again! This chapter took me a while to write mainly out of indecision; there were some decisions of where to take the story next that I just wasn't sure about. I finally got it together though and just decided to go ahead with it. Hope you folks enjoy it. One more thing though: because of some sexual content in this chapter I will throw out a warning. It's there. It may not be for the squeamish or easily disturbed...and that's it. Thanks to all of you who faithfully read and review. I appreciate you more than you know_-_ Jess_

**Chapter Forty Two: Taken in Strides**

Cat stared at herself for what seemed like the twentieth time in the mirror. She examined her reflection with nervous eyes and hands that wandered everywhere.

She was dressed rather casually- jeans, a white t shirt and tennis shoes. Heath had said to just keep it simple, and so she had. Cat had wondered very briefly whether or not that meant that he would be painting her nude again. She remembered what had happened that last time and had to block the memory from arising to keep herself from feeling the same desire she'd felt that night.

"Okay," she murmured to her reflection, "It's alright. You can do this. It's not a big deal. Just a sitting for a painting. Just relax. Relax…"

There came a knock at her bedroom door and without waiting for a reply, Isabella came in. She smiled at Cat with that same sardonic cynicism that she had earlier that week, "Getting all ready for your date, I see." She said. Cat threw a glare at her then looked back in the mirror as she pulled a brush through her hair,

"It's a portrait session." She muttered irritably, "It's not a date."

"Hmm." Was all the reply. Isabella sat down on the edge of Cat and Edgar's bed, crossing her legs languidly, "You look nervous about something," she remarked, "Are you alright?"

Cat frowned then, "What? What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. You look nervous. Is something bothering you?"

She shook her head, "N-no. I'm fine. Why would even ask that?"

Isabella smiled again, shaking her head, "You know, Catherine, you don't have to try to be so secretive with me. It's not like I'm out to get you or anything. And I am a woman- I understand."

"Understand what?"

"How you feel. Really, I do. You're nervous because your childhood sweetheart that you really never got over is suddenly back in your life, and you feel confused and scared about it….and maybe even a little regretful."

"I don't regret anything!" Cat said, tasting the lie as it passed through her teeth.

Isabella laughed mockingly then, letting her head tilt sideways as she looked back at her, "You're such a terrible liar, Catherine. And the funny thing about it, is that you're the only one who can't see that."

"Did you come in here for a reason?" Cat snapped at her, "Don't you have some date to get to, or some art opening you could be at?"

"I just came here to wish you good luck. You obviously have some of it already- but no harm in having a little bit more, is there?"

"Fine, you wished me luck," she said, still annoyed, "Now, will you just get out?"

Isabella shrugged, seeming unbothered by Cat's rudeness. She stood up and went towards the door, then paused, turning back around, "You know I don't blame you for feeling the way you do." She said. "Not one bit."

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I look at him, I try and figure out just what it was that could have possibly made you choose Edgar over him. Every single time. And you know something funny, Catherine?" she gave a small chuckle, "I still can't figure it out." And with that, she left, shutting the door behind her.

Cat stayed frozen where she stood by the mirror, feeling so bludgeoned by the words, that she didn't think to move. "Neither can I," she whispered to herself, "Neither can I."

From outside, she could hear the approaching engine from the motorcycle as it stopped outside the house. She took a deep breath and gathered her composure, grabbing her purse and going out the bedroom and down the stairs to answer the door.

"You ready?" was all Heath said when she opened it. She nodded wordlessly and came outside, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Let's get this started then."'

She followed him back to the curb and climbed on behind him, leaning forward to wrap her arms around him. She took in the scent of him that she knew so well, and involuntarily, let out a sigh.

From where she sat, she saw Heath momentarily pause. A muscle worked in the side of his jaw, and she could tell that he was clenching it hard, the way he used to when he was angry or frustrated. His hands gripped the handlebars tight as he revved the engine and pushed off the curb back onto the street. The wind felt good on her face and Cat closed her eyes.

For a moment she imagined that it was the Indian Chief motorcycle that her father had given Heath all those years ago, and that the two of them were simply riding the bike through the miles and miles of endless plain and road back home- not in New York after so many years with the two of them so very changed…

* * *

Heath's loft apartment was spartan in its furnishings. There wasn't much inside of it in the way of decoration. The majority of the living area was taken up by standing art easels, some covered and others uncovered. Sheaves of sketching paper, art supplies and materials were littered across the floor. Mounted canvases were leaned up against the brick walls. Besides that, there wasn't much else in the place; a large bed was in the far corner of the apartment, two bureaus of clothes, a small table and chair was set up beside the kitchen area. A bathroom in another corner. And that was it.

When they first came in, Heath took off his leather jacket and carelessly tossed it over a chair. Reaching back, he gathered his hair together and secured it in a tail at his neck. He began clearing a space in the center of the room, positioning one of the easels and placing an empty canvas upon it. He pulled up a stool and sat down on, beginning to gather together charcoal pencils together and sharpening them.

Cat stood there watching him, not knowing what he wanted her to do. Was it supposed to be like the last time, or would this painting be different? Should she undress in the bathroom, or just do it out there? (after all it wasn't as if her nakedness was anything he hadn't seen before)

As if he could read her thoughts, Heath spoke, not bothering to even look up as he said, "The bathroom's in the corner."

She went over to the tiny room and shut herself in, beginning to undress herself with fingers that refused to stop giving small tremors.

Just as she had when she was still a teenager, Cat looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her body almost seemed the exact same as it had been before. She was admittedly, fuller in the chest and somewhat wider in the hips, but ultimately, she had still kept her same physique.

She took a deep breath and let it out, steeling herself before she opened the door and came back outside. The air was drafty, and the hairs on her body stood up from the chill that came over her. She hugged herself tightly with her arms, feeling rudely bare and exposed.

Heath's back was to her, but she chose to remain behind him and wait for him to speak, to turn around, look at her, anything.

"Don't just stand back there like a scared rabbit. Come here." He instructed, still not looking up or turning around to speak to her.

"I'm not scared." Cat said, trying to steady the tone of her voice.

"Then come here."

She walked over to where he sat on his stool, stopping when she was standing directly in front of him. Heath stopped sharpening the charcoal pencil then, and slowly set it down. He looked upwards, letting his gaze travel up her to body to meet with her eyes. Cat didn't move, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing.

Heath stood up and took another step towards her, making it so that their bodies were almost touching. He reached out and took a hold of the ponytail that her hair was in. He pulled out the hair tie and let it cascade down her back and over her shoulders. Just as he had that first night he painted her, he let his fingers graze across the skin on her shoulders, down her arms, and waist. Cat found herself leaning forward into him, her own hands coming up to clasp his shoulders.

His hands were at her waist, holding her firmly against him as he looked down into her eyes. He was searching them with his own, and his brows were drawn down in that exploring frown of his that made Cat feel a though she was a book he was reading rather than a person.

His face was so close to her that she was rising up on her feet now, craning her neck back so that her mouth could come closer to his. She leaned even closer to try and kiss him. Heath pulled his head backwards as she did, seeming to ignore the hurt in her face,

"You _are_ scared," he murmured, "I can see it in your eyes."

"Is that what you want to do?" she asked him, "Hurt me and scare me?"

He didn't answer at first, looking down at her silence. Finally he replied, "If I did…you would know it." He let go of her then, taking a step back. He pointed to a patch of ground, in front of the easel, "Sit down there, but with your back towards me." Cat obeys, settling down into the chair, and letting her arms come down from over her breasts,

"Sweep your hair to one side," Heath says, "That's it- now lean forward so that I can see it. Look at me."

"Do you want me to smile?" Cat asked.

He shook his head, "No. Don't smile. Just look at me- arch your eyebrow. Not both of them, just one. Relax your mouth- open it a little bit. Just like that." He took up the charcoal pencil and began to move it across the canvas, his eyes flickering back between her and the canvas. "Now… just stay still."

"I think that-" Cat began to say, but he immediately cut her off,

"And quiet."

Cat sighed a little at that, her jaw clenching in annoyed frustration. But she knew better than to make a smart remark- that never worked with Heath. He'd either simply put down the charcoal and take her home rather than listen to her attitude, or just have one of his to make that would only shut her up anyway. It was just his way. He knew that she knew it too. So she did as he was told, holding the pose and keeping her mouth shut.

Every time that Heath's eyes met with hers, Cat felt a small clench on the inside of her, no matter that it was for the painting and not to simply look at her (or so she told herself) or no matter how many times it happened. He worked quickly, drawing the pencil this way and that across the canvas at an amazing speed, every so often using his fingertip to rub a little on the surface.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he set the charcoal down on the small rack and used a small towel to wipe his fingers, looking down at them as he said, "Alright. We're done for today."

As she relaxed out of the set pose, Cat was openly shivering, her teeth giving small chatters from the chilly air of the apartment. Heath looked over at her, seeming to just notice. Without a word, he walked over to his bed and picked up the heavy blanket that covered it, then went over to where she was kneeling and held out his hand to help her up. Cat took it, and rose to her feet. Heath draped the blanket around her shoulders and clenched the ends together into a knot at her neck.

Cat took a hold of it, her fingers brushing against his again. She didn't think she could bear to look him in the eyes again, and yet she didn't think she could bear too look away. It could have been because she had fantasized and dreamed about them for the past five years, but at that moment she knew that there had never been more breathtaking eyes than Heath's. There wasn't another man that could look so beautiful to her. There was no one else that she wanted. "Thank you." She said, a catch entering her voice.

Heath looked down at her in that unreadable expression of his, "It's getting late," He replied, "Go and get dressed."

She obeyed, actually wanting to be alone for a few moments so that she could collect herself. Cat shut the door of the bathroom and braced her hands against the edge of the sink, letting her head hang down low towards her chest. She took more deep breaths, in and out until she had returned her breathing to a natural rhythm. She felt foolish for having to do it- that Heath still had the same effect upon her as if she were still sixteen years old. She dressed herself and came back outside, just as he was covering the art canvas and easel with a coarse white sheet.

"We'll start the oils tomorrow night." He said, "It won't be as long a session since I have to do them in layers."

"I remember what it's like, Heath." Cat replied, "It wasn't that long ago that we did this."

"Over five years." He stated, brushing his hands off on one another, "Don't you think that's a long time?"

She paused then, lowering her voice before answering, "Only because you weren't there for them."

He paused then, his expression changing. He picked back up his leather jacket and slid into it. "You got through the years just fine the way I see it, Cat." His voice was even and had the smallest hint of sharpness to it.

"You think so?" she retorted in incredulous anger, "What do you know about my life then? How do you know that it was so fucking perfect when I had to live every day thinking I'd lost you?"

Heath stared at her for a few moments, and she could see the muscle working in his jaw, "Because you _could _live." He said stonily, "That's how I know. You married Edgar Linton, you had your precious modeling career, you traveled. You could take one fucking breath and not even think about me. I'd say that was living, wouldn't you?"

Cat's eyes were burning with unshed tears of shame and frustration, "So, I suppose if I were to die, you wouldn't be able to do any of that? You wouldn't make yourself go on and live your life?"

The look that Heath gave her made Cat want to cower in the nearest corner, and she took an instinctive step back, regretting the words almost as soon as they left her mouth.

"If I had thought you were dead back then," he answered finally, his voice strangely quiet and cold, "I wouldn't have been able to do anything; not marry, not work, not travel, not breathe. You were all my reasons. _You _were my life." He paused for a moment, before tilting his head sideways, "But obviously, you didn't feel the same way, did you?"

Cat didn't know what to say, abashed into silence by his words. Finally, she said the only thing she could think of, "I love you." She shrugged helplessly, "Isn't that enough?"

Heath shook his head, "No." he answered, "Not anymore."

"So…you don't still feel that way about me?"

"No." he said again, seeming to ignore her wince of hurt, "You're not what I live my life for anymore. All of that's done now."

Her eyes continued to glisten and she bit her lip hard, "Do you really hate me so much?" she whispered.

Heath shook his head, "Not as much as I used to think I did. Now I think I hate the person I was then even more."

"Why?"

"Because of how much I gave of myself to you-even when you wouldn't give me the same in return. That was always the problem—you never gave me as much as I gave to you. You never wanted to."

He must have realized how the beginnings of hurt were starting to creep into his voice, because Heath then took his keys out of his pocket and began walking towards the door, calling back to her, "Let's go."

Cat could do nothing but follow him outside to the waiting motorcycle. She felt the way that he tensed up when she put her arms around him and leaned further forward, away from her. It was a quiet, cold ride back to the Linton mansion on the other side of the city, and Heath didn't even bother to turn off the engine when he stopped beside the curb.

Cat turned around to face him when she hopped off, hugging herself against the chill of the night air, "Are you coming tomorrow?" she asked.

He nodded, "Same time. Be ready."

"Fine…" she paused then, before adding, "I love you, Heath."

He looked at her, then shook his head, "It's not that easy, Cat. When are you going to figure that out?" Without even waiting for her to answer, he turned down the visor of his helmet and pushed off the curb, driving away.

Cat trudged up the stone stairs and went inside, leaning against the heavy front door as she closed it behind her.

"You're home late." She looked up and saw Isabella leaning against the railing of the staircase, dressed in her skimpy pajamas. Her sister- in law smiled at her thinly, "Edgar called while you were gone. He asked about you."

Cat stared back up at her, "What did you say?"

Isabella shrugged, "I said you were asleep. That a safe enough lie for you?"

"Good night, Isabella." Cat said coldly. Isabella lingered there for a few more moments, looking as though she wanted to say more. Finally though, she straightened and turned around, going back into her own bedroom and shutting the door.

Cat lingered there for a moment, listening to the silence that now filled the house.

* * *

It went on like that for several weeks. Cat went over to Heath's apartment to pose for the paintings, Isabella kept the secret for her from not only Edgar, but Ellie as well. Cat decided early on that it was better for her surrogate mother not to know about the sessions- she didn't want to face what she knew would be displeasure from Ellie about what she was doing.

It wasn't that she felt as though she had anything to feel guilty about exactly. Nothing was 'happening' between her and Heath anyway. At least not in the way that there posed any danger to her and Edgar's marriage.

Heath was distant from her most of the time. He touched her as little as possible, and when he looked at her to draw, sketch or paint, she felt as though he were looking at her as if she herself was a painting hanging up in an exhibit. Something he could study and stare at only to extract an observation from- not as if she were an actual person, not as if she was the woman that he'd grew up and fell in love with.

The emotional outburst that they'd had that first night wasn't repeated. Cat had tried to talk to Heath about the past and what had passed between them soon after that first night, only to be abruptly cut off as he told her that the past was over and done with, and as such, they didn't have anything more to say about it.

The way he behaved confused Cat. She knew- she _knew_- that he didn't hate her. No matter what she had or could have done, she could just feel that that just wasn't possible for Heath. And no matter what he had said, she didn't think that he was really set upon trying to hurt her for what she had done to him in the past.

He wanted her to believe something that he knew would be even worse to her: that he was indifferent to her, and that he didn't love her anymore. That she didn't matter to him anymore. And Cat didn't believe that for a second. She wouldn't allow herself to, not when she was still so very badly in love with him.

It was becoming harder and harder to hide the unhappiness and dissatisfaction that her love for Heath brought to her marriage to Edgar. She was getting restless and impatient- not only with him, but with her life in general. She didn't even enjoy her modeling job the same way that she used to anymore. Everything that she did whenever she wasn't with Heath now seemed to be irrelevant and a waste of her time. Even though he was distant and kept her at an arms length most of the time, Cat didn't want to be anywhere else but with him. He was all she could think of- he was all she wanted.

Now, she couldn't understand the way she had acted all those years ago when she'd first went to New York. She couldn't believe that she had put her modeling career and everything that had went along with it before what she had had with Heath. Leaving him for all of it had seemed to make so much sense back then. But now, nearly six years later, as Cat looked back on it, she realized that it hadn't made any sense at all. She and Heath had something priceless back then- and now, she would have given anything to have it back….even everything she had at that moment.

It filled Cat with the deepest shame, but she hadn't been able to resist considering the possibility of leaving Edgar. She'd gone over it a dozen times in her mind.

It wasn't that she didn't love him anymore. She loved Edgar very much. He was still a good husband to her, even though he worked incessantly and the two of them weren't as close as they had once been. Cat had still enjoyed being his wife and living with him. He made her happy, and gave her a steady kind of peace that she'd never had before. Their marriage over the past five years had been relatively content- and it would have probably stayed that way too…had it not been for Heath's coming back.

That had changed everything. Heath's reappearance had rudely jerked her out of her complacent, lulling marriage and lifestyle so that she was suddenly wishing for the lifestyle that she'd had before she'd even met Edgar. She found herself yearning to be the Cat that she had once been before; wild, untamable and free.

Free- that was what Heath represented to her now. That was what she dreamed about now at night while she laid beside her husband: Heath, and the freedom that being with him again would bring her.

But when all was said and done, that was all that it was: a dream. The realization of that was enough to make Cat know that her thoughts of actually leaving Edgar to be with Heath would never go any further than her imagination.

First of all, she didn't know if she could ever get up the nerve. Every time she thought of the look that would appear on Edgar's face if she ever told him that she was leaving him, Cat cringed with shame. It was even worse when she thought about what everyone- all the important friends of the Lintons and her associates at work- would say when they found out.

And second of all, she didn't even know that if she did leave Edgar that Heath would take her back. She could tell by the way he acted towards her whenever they were together. He had built a wall of bitterness around him that he refused to let her penetrate. He still hadn't forgiven her. He never said it, but he didn't need to: it was in his eyes at every moment. If he couldn't even forgive her, why would he want to take her back?

She was unhappy, but she took it in stride, knowing that there was little to nothing that she could actually do to change it. Everything that had happened was a result of her own choices and decisions- she would just have to accept the consequences of them. What else, after all, could she do about it?

* * *

It was late in the evening once again, and Cat was at Heath's apartment, sitting for another painting.

For the past few weeks she had been able to be reasonably even tempered and in control of herself. The sight of Heath, and the nearness of him affected her, but by then she was normally able to deal with it, and not have to fight the emotions that came along with it. But that night was different.

She'd woken up from a dream of him, of the two of them together, just as they'd used to be. They were at the Heights again, with her dad, in the fields behind the house, in their cave in the woods, in their tree. And then they were in his room, making love to one another with just as much passion as there had been that first and only time all those years ago after her father had died. Before she'd met Edgar. Before everything had been ruined.

She'd woken from the dream in tears and had wept for hours before falling back asleep. The regret, the desperate longing for the time and opportunity to do it all over was terrible. It was what hurt worst of all.

Edgar could sense what was wrong with her. He hadn't said anything to her about it yet, but Cat knew that he knew all the same. Honestly she thought that he was afraid to talk to her about it- as if even bringing the subject up would give her an immediate incentive for her to leave him and bring their marriage to an end.

Instead, he was trying to raise her spirits in other ways. He'd suggested that the two of them go on a vacation together, "a long holiday away from it all" Cat wasn't stupid- she knew what the "all" was that he wanted to get her away from- or rather, who. He'd even made Cat come close to choking on her water one morning and mentioned the subject of having children. She'd hastily shut that one down- just the thought of having a baby was enough to make her enter into a panic. That had hurt his feelings, but Cat didn't care. She knew that his suddenly wanting to have a baby wasn't without connection to Heath's reappearance. It was like Edgar believed that her getting pregnant with his baby would make her more securely his, that it would stop her from trying to leave. It was like he was trying to trap her into staying with him. And even though she partially fought against it, Cat couldn't help but harbor resentment towards him for that.

Isabella swore to her that she hadn't told Edgar about the portrait sittings, but Cat wasn't so sure of that anymore, especially when the tension between her and Isabella had only worsened. Past experience made Cat know that jealousy usually made Isabella vindictive- she wouldn't have been surprised if her sister in law had told Edgar about the portrait sittings purely because of her envy of Cat's being alone with Heath so often.

Cat wasn't so sure at that point that she would have minded his knowing so much. Perhaps if he knew then something would happen- and she wouldn't have had to go on like she was now- so close to Heath and yet so far away, trapped and lying in the bed she'd made of her life.

These thoughts were what were on her mind as she sat there, this time on the ground, the blanket loosely draped across her nude body. Cat was sitting still and maintaining the set pose for the painting- but her face had long lost the look that she knew Heath wanted it to have. Her facial expression had become as empty and dejected as she felt. She was tired of trying to hide it- she was tired of what they'd been doing for the past several weeks- pretending that she wasn't Cat and that he wasn't Heath and that they couldn't be as they once were.

She was giving small tremors, but this time it wasn't just from the draft in the air. It was her nerves, making her feel on edge.

Cat could tell that she wasn't the only one feeling tense. Heath felt it too- she could see it in his eyes. They were hard and piercing to the core. The pauses he was taking were too long; several times he stopped painting and just stared at her for two or three seconds. His jaw was clenched and the swallows he took were tight and slow.

It was as if the two of them could both just feel that something between them, although invisible, was and had all along building up to that night, that moment and was ready to explode.

Cat let her eyes hold with Heath's, daring to stare at him, boldly stare at him for longer than a few seconds. She swallowed the egg that was in her throat and allowed her mouth to crack open a centimeter or two, letting the breath escape her lungs in quiet, long exhalations. She couldn't remember the last time that she had felt this way- so miserable but at the same time so sensually desirous.

She wanted Heath so badly at that moment. She wanted him so bad, she could taste it.

He stopped then, abruptly. The brush gave a small clatter as he set it down on the stand. "Alright." He said, and she could heard that his voice was thick and low, "That's enough. It's over."

Cat paused then, "What's...over?" she asked.

"We are. Here." He was wiping his hands off on a towel, "The painting's done."

"Are you going to do another one?"

"No. I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going away in a few days."

She frowned, "What? Going away, wh-" she stopped short, taking the slightly panicked tone out of her voice, "What for?" she asked more calmly.

Heath looked up, tilting his head sideways, "Just away." He replied, "What difference does it make to you?"

"You know what difference it makes." She answered quietly, "Just promise me that you're going to come back."

Heath smiled then, but it wasn't a kind smile- it was tight and sardonic, "What," he said, "Like you promised me that you were coming back when you left home?"

She winced at that, but still managed to ask, "Are you coming back or not?"

He waited a few moments before replying, "Yes. I'm coming back."

Cat looked down at the ground, biting her lip. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't.

She rose to her feet, clenching the sheet around her torso in the front and started walking away towards the bathroom.

"Why did you marry him?"

She stopped in her tracks, not only at the words, but at the new tone in Heath's voice. It was rough and gravely, nothing like the cool, composed tone there'd been in his voice for so long.

Cat turned around and saw that Heath was staring at her woundedly, the struggle going on inside of him was apparent in his eyes. It was enough to melt her heart.

"_Why_?" he repeated more forcefully, beginning to walk towards her, "I've never been able to figure that out. Not ever. Why did you?"

Cat swallowed hard, clutching the sheet even closer to her with her fist, "Because," she whispered, "He asked me to."

"You didn't have to say yes," Heath said swiftly, "I know you didn't want to- you never wanted to marry him. You never wanted him in the first place."

"That's not true." She protested weakly, "Edgar and I care about each other. We love-"

Heath had reached her by then and cut her off, taking her arms and jerking to him so roughly that she lost grip of the sheet and it fell to the floor, "You have the fucking nerve to tell me you love him? That the two of you had anything fucking close to what was between you and me- what _still is_ between you and me?" He shook his head with a sardonic snort, "He doesn't know the first thing about love. He doesn't know the first thing about pain. He doesn't know the first thing about you."

"Heath, I couldn't say no!" Cat cried, "Don't you understand everything that I owed to Edgar? He gave me a career, he gave me a new life! I owed all of my success to him- and the only thing he wanted in return was to be with me-"

"So what?" Heath retorted, "So fucking what, Cat! You didn't have to marry him. Wasn't it enough to tear my heart out when you fucked him? Why did you have to marry him, why? Do you want to kill me? Do you want me to kill him? Is that what you want?"

"I want _you_!" Cat she insisted, her voice shaking with tears, "That's all I know right now, Heath! That I want you!"

"No you don't," he shook his head, "You don't. You just want me to crawl and beg for you like I always did before. You just want to know that I'll be there. You don't want me. You don't give a shit for me. You don't love me the way I love you. You-"

Cat rose up on the top of her toes and pressed her lips to Heath's desperately. He tried to push her away, but she wouldn't allow him to, only pressing herself up against him harder. It only took a few seconds before she felt his mouth open to hers, as a low groan emitted from his throat. His arms instantly opened and crushed her to him, his fingers digging into her skin almost painfully.

They kissed one another hard and fast, Cat's fingers slid into Heath's hair as she held his head, allowing herself to go deeper and deeper into his mouth.

He didn't seem as though he ever wanted to let her go. His touch was bruising her and she was becoming short of breath, but Cat didn't care. She let him do as he liked, wanting to lose herself in this moment, in this night, in Heath's arms. She just wanted to forget about everything else but the two of them.

Suddenly, he broke his lips away from hers and jerked her body back, away from his. His eyes were dark and shadowed with torment as he panted, "Get out." His voice was cold and swift, piercing her to the core.

Cat stared at him in disbelief, "Wh-what?" she gasped, not wanting to believe what she heard.

"Get out." He repeated, "Go home."

She tried to come back to him, but he gave her a rough shove, almost sending her off her balance.

"Go," he almost growled, "Get out of here!"

Cat shook her head, her eyes shining with tears of wounded frustration, "Why are you doing this?" she asked him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Heath was silent for a long moment, then gave his unkind, tight grin, "Because you made me ask you that question once," he answered, "And you never gave me the answer why…" He reached down and picked up her clothes that she'd taken off for the portrait sitting and threw them at her chest in a rumpled ball, "Now get the hell out of here."

She wept on the cab drive back to her house. Uncaring of the presence of the cab driver in front, Cat sobbed bitter, miserable tears the entire way back home. By the time she got up to the door, she had to bite her lip and stifle her cries in long enough to scamper up to her bedroom and shut the door.

The moment she had, Cat let the dam break forth again, sinking down to the floor and leaning up against her bedroom door as she held herself while she wept.

* * *

There weren't very many people at the bar that night. A few customers came back and forth to purchase drinks, but on the whole, Isabella sat there alone. There was a Grey Goose martini in front of her, which she sipped every few minutes, in between giving wide, irritated sweeps of the room with her eyes.

Every time the bartender walked past her, he gave her an apologetic smile that she tried her damndest to ignore. She didn't want his sympathy. She didn't need his pity. She also didn't want to acknowledge the apologetic smile because it would have been an admission to herself that she knew that she was being stood up for the third time in the past three weeks.

It wasn't even as if the guy meant anything to her at all. He was really somewhat of a jerk as a matter of fact; an arrogant, self-absorbed Wall Street executive with too much money and not enough of much else. But he'd asked her out when the two of them had crossed paths at a shared acquaintance's wedding a month ago. And because he was moderately attractive and she hadn't had anything else to do, Isabella had said yes.

She wouldn't have bothered if she knew that his idea of taking her out meant standing her up.

Isabella picked up her glass and took a big gulp of the remaining alcohol, grimacing a little as it went down. The bartender noticed and asked her gently, "Another one, Miss?" as if he was trying to say 'I'm sorry you got stood up' by offering her another drink.

Isabella gave a tight smile. She wasn't so desperate that she needed to drown her sorrows with a complete stranger, and a bartender at that. She started to shake her head and say no, but stopped when from the corner of her eye, she sensed another customer come up to the bar, and a familiar voice speak,

"Whiskey on the rocks."

She turned her head, and instantly decided that that night was just getting worse.

Heath didn't seem to notice her presence. He sat rigid and stooped over on the bar seat, his face a darkened cloud of cold misery.

Isabella watched him, her own expression a combination of wry amusement and wistful admiration.

No matter how pissed off he looked, he also still looked damn good.

After the bartender had poured his whiskey on the rocks, he came back over to her, posing the same question. This time, Isabella hesitated, glancing over at Heath again. After a few moments, she nodded,

"Yeah. Yeah I'll take another. And make it a double."

She waited while the bartender made her the drink, casting side glances at Heath every few seconds. When it was set down in front of her. She picked it up and hesitated. "Here's to…" she murmured to herself quietly. A small, mirthless smile turned up her perfect lips, as she shifted around in her chair to face Heath, "Here's to us. For coming out to get a little consolation after getting shafted tonight by significant others…even if yours is a little bit more significant than mine."

Heath lifted his glass of whiskey, "Get away from me." He said, speaking to her as if she were a pebble in his shoe.

Isabella's smile didn't leave her lips though. She only took a hard sip of her own drink, retorting, "I was here first. Don't you think that should be _my_ line?"

"I said _leave_… me alone."

She snorted, "Oooh. That sounded serious. Do you want to try and threaten me next?"

"What the fuck is your damage?" he set down the now empty glass with a small thud against the bar, "Huh? Are you stupid or something?"

"You want to know something funny, Heath?" Isabella asked him, a sharp edge entering her own voice, "I've been wanting to ask you the same questions for months now. What the fuck is _your_ damage? Are _you _stupid or something?"

He stared at her for a few moments, then signaled to the bartender for another drink. After he'd filled it, Heath raised it to his lips again, a tight, sardonic grin on his lips, "Yeah," he muttered, "I'm stupid. I'm the stupidest motherfucker to walk the planet."

"Both of you are stupid. You're the stupidest pair of people I've ever met in my life." She shook her head, "Catherine's so stupid that'd she'd rather stay married to Edgar and be miserable than be with you. And you…you're so stupid that you have to come up with some bullshit excuse about a painting commission just so you can see her every day."

Heath glanced at her sharply, "What are you-"

"Just don't." Isabella cut him off, "Don't try to pretend like I don't know. Like I wasn't able to see through that lie from the first damn day. We both know that there's no real customer, no real commission, and no real demand for a painting. You just wanted to be able to look at her." Isabella snorted wryly, before taking another sip of her drink, "And maybe paint a few new stroke shots for those lonely nights…" Her brow lifted, "But maybe they're not so lonely anymore, hmm?"

Heath was quiet for a long moment, and Isabella smiled, knowing she'd hit it right on target.

"I guess they are. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." He said, and she gave a small, conceding laugh,

"You're right. I'm not. Not at all, as a matter of fact. Catherine's a spoiled little brat."

"Really?"

"She's never satisfied, even when she's getting what she wants. I swear, she likes being miserable more than she likes being happy."

"Is that right?" he asked her matter of factly, and she glared at him.

"Don't you try to fucking patronize me. Not when you know I'm telling the truth. You ought to know more than anyone what she's really like. You ought to be more angry than me. You should hate her."

He shrugged, "Maybe I do."

Isabella stared at him, then shook her head, "No you don't. Not as much as you love her." She took another swig from her drink, "I need to ask you something." She said, her voice becoming quiet and somber.

"What is it?"

"Why did you come back?" she asked. "I've been trying to figure it out…but I just can't. At first, I thought you'd come to win her back, and get her to divorce Edgar. But you didn't. Then I thought you just wanted to start an affair with her to relive the past…but that wasn't it either. So why are you here? Why did you decide to reappear in her life after five years?"

He was quiet for a long time, taking two more sips of his whiskey and for a few moments, Isabella didn't think he intended on answering her. Finally though, he replied, "Because I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her suffer for everything that she ever put me through. I knew what I was going to do. The whole thing. I had it all planned out in my head…" he shook his head as he stared down into his glass, his voice becoming hard and angry "And still…she _still _found a way to fuck it up. To fuck me over…"

"You were just using me, weren't you?" Isabella asked dully, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol work on her. "The art gallery thing- it was just a way to get to her. _I_ was just a way to get to her…wasn't I?"

"Did I ever give you a reason to think you were anything else?"

She chuckled sadly, not meeting his eyes, "No. You didn't. I guess that was just me and my stupid hopes."

There was a long silence between the two of them, as they continued to drink and stare into their glasses.

"Do you know what I keep thinking about?" she asked abruptly, "The first day that I saw you. That very first day at Catherine's old house. I've never been able to forget it. One minute we were standing in her grimy old kitchen and her brother said your name; Heath. And I asked who you were- and suddenly, I looked up…and there you were." She looked at him, tilting her head sideways in recollection, "And you were so…dirty. You were absolutely filthy. Everything about you was so beat up and used and worn…" she shook her head, "But then I saw your eyes. And…and I remember feeling as though you would pierce me to the core with that gaze of yours."

Heath's face betrayed nothing, and he remained silent as she continued.

"But that isn't what I remember most. Not that. It was…it was the look that you gave Catherine. And the look that she gave you. I watched the two of you watch each other- and I thought…I _knew_, that that gaze was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. It was so beautiful it hurt me to see it." Isabella smiled grimly, feeling her eyes begin to burn and her throat swell. She knew that it was the alcohol that was making her become emotional, but she didn't care.

"Y-you want to know what my problem is? What Edgar's problem is? We just…we just want a piece of what it is that the two of you have with each other. That's it. Just a… _taste _of what it would feel like to have a love like that. Edgar wants so bad to be some woman's Heath… and I…I want so bad to be some man's Catherine." She laughed, dabbing at her eyes with her fingertips, "We're just a pair of dumb idiots. We just can't seem to get it through our heads that…" she finally let her eyes meet with his, "There's only ever going to be one Heath. And there's only going to be one Catherine…ever." Two tears fell down her cheeks. She hastily dashed them away and took another long swallow from her glass.

Heath licked his lips, face and voice betraying nothing as he stated, "You're drunk."

Isabella laughed then, nodding her head in agreement, "I'm _very_ drunk! And I intend on getting even drunker before I leave this bar. It'll probably be the only good thing that happens to me today."

"Then we have something in common." Heath replied. He signaled to the bartender to come and refill their drinks again. The two of them sat in a few more moments of silence before he abruptly began talking again,

"I'm never going to be in love with you, Isabella. You understand that?"

She nodded her head, "Yeah. I got that a while ago."

"It isn't just because of who your brother is. I'm just never going to love you."

"I know."

"Do you love me?"

She paused for a moment, biting her lip before finally answering, "Yes. I do."

Heath leaned in closer towards her, "How much?"

"I'd do anything you asked."

He leaned closer, "Anything?"

"Anything."

"What if I wanted you to help me hurt Cat- would you do that?"

Isabella swallowed hard, "Yes." She whispered.

He leaned his head in even closer to hers, so that his lips were nearly touching the side of her face. He lingered there for a few moments, and she knew that it was intentionally done. Her heart was pounding. Sweat was forming beneath her armpits and she was becoming shorter of breath. Isabella could feel the hotness of his breath and smell the whiskey in it,

"Do you want to get some air?" he whispered in a voice as smooth as water.

Turning her head, she gazed into his emerald eyes and was lost, wordlessly nodding her head.

Straightening, Heath pulled out his wallet and extracted a fifty dollar bill. He tossed it nonchalantly onto the bar, "Keep the change." He said to the bartender, then gestured to her with one, short movement of his neck, "C'mon."

It was all that he said- just one word. But it was enough. Isabella had been wanting to hear that word since the day that she'd laid eyes on Heath. And regardless of the circumstances or the reality of the situation, that night- she was willing to take him in whatever way she could get him.

* * *

Nothing about that night was what Isabella had expected it to be.

Heath took her to a nearby motel, one with a funny smell and stained ceilings that she never would have even considered stepped foot in on her own.

Isabella had been surprised at how indifferent and detached he seemed to be from her on the way there. Even when he parked the motorcycle and walked towards the entrance, he stayed at three brisk paces ahead of her and she had to power walk just to keep up with him. He didn't even look at her- not in the sense that he was trying to ignore her, but as if she genuinely wasn't even there to him.

When he put the room key in the door and pushed it open, Isabella hung in the doorway, her nose crinkling at the unclean smell coming from inside the motel room. Heath gave her a rough nudge inside and kicked the door closed with his foot.

He grabbed a hold of her wrists and yanked her to him, pulling her over towards the bed. Isabella gave a small yelp at his touch.

But he seemed to pay her no mind. As he released her wrists, she half staggered, half tumbled back across the bed. She tried to get up, but by then Heath was hovering over her and she couldn't move.

Isabelle reached up and touched the side of Heath's face, trying to lift her head up to kiss him. But he only moved her hand away from him and forced her down onto her back.

Shoving her skirt up her thighs, he hiked it up around her hips. He tugged her underwear off and tossed it to the floor. In the next moment, he was unbuckling his belt, and pulling down his zipper. Isabella watched as he hunkered down to straddle her on both sides of her hips and reached down to take himself out of his boxer shorts. He used his own legs to spread hers apart wide. She gave a sharp sound of pain as he swiftly and brusquely entered her.

"_God_! Stop, that hurts-" she began to exclaim, but he cut her off, covering her mouth with one of his hands and pressing down upon it tight.

"Don't talk." He said shortly. "Don't move. Just be quiet and still."

Isabella stared at him for a moment in hurt, bewildered confusion. The moment didn't last long however. In the next, Heath used his other hand to cover her eyes so that all around her was darkness. He thrust deep into her hard, causing another moan of pain to emit from her throat. She bit her lip against the pain, trying to fight the tears that sprouted to her eyes.

She laid there prostrated in the darkness, unable to move or see as he fucked her. She could hear his quick breathing and grunts and pushed away the feeling of nausea that suddenly washed over her at the sound of them.

He didn't make it last very long. Soon enough, his thrusts became quicker and harder as his hands clamped down even tighter over her eyes and mouth. All Isabella could think of was how she hoped they wouldn't leave any bruises on her.

Then, her thoughts were brought to a screeching halt at his moment of climax when she heard him groan out one word,

"_Caaaat_…"

Then it was over and his body sagged down against hers as he panted heavily.

Isabella laid there in crushed silence, still not moving an inch. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the tears of not only pain, but ashamed hurt.

Heath only stayed on top of her for a few moments before hastily pulling out of her and getting back up to his feet. He re-zipped and buttoned the pants he hadn't even bothered to remove and fastened his belt. She watched as he swept a hand through his hair and turned around, going into the adjoining bathroom. He shut the door behind him, but didn't pull it all the way shut, so that it remained slightly cracked.

In a few moments, she could hear him retching into the toilet violently, as if he were throwing up his insides. After a little while, it ended, and he flushed the vomit down the drain.

Emerging from the bathroom, he went over to the corner where he'd tossed his leather coat and reached inside the inner pocket. He pulled out a small bottle of whiskey and went over to window, sitting on the sill as he took periodic sips from it.

Isabella stared at him, willing him to look in her direction. It took him five minutes to actually do it, and when he did, it was a mere glance of pure indifference,

"I told you," He said in response to the look on her face, "I don't love you. I never will."

Isabella looked up at the ceiling, and closed her eyes, sending a single, solitary tear down her cheek, "So is that how it's going to be from now on?" she murmured, "You fuck me because you can't fuck her?"

"Who says that I can't?" he asked her evenly. She looked at him and saw that he was smiling- a cold, triumphant smile that she shrank back from, turning onto her side so that she didn't have to face Heath, or the implication of the answer that he'd just given her.


	43. Chapter 43: An Easy Way Out

_A/N: Time for another update. Thank all of you for being so patient with me, I know my updates come between really large gaps of time and that can get frustrating. It frustrates me too, trust me. Anyway, here it is. And, you'll be glad to know that I'm in the process of finishing up the next chapter, so that update should be coming up within the next few days. _

_On another note, I received a request a little while ago from a reviewer to give you guys a visual for what I've thought the characters in the story look like all this time. Because I like to give you all what you want, I've uploaded some surprises on my profile page that if any of you are curious as to how I imagine Cat and Heath to look like, you can check it out there._

_Thanks again for all the love, compliments and support. Enjoy the update, and be on the lookout for the next one very soon,_

_-Jess_

**Chapter Forty Three: An Easy Way Out**

The phone beside Cat's bed rang three times before she stirred to pick it up. "Hello?" she said groggily,

"C-Cat?" the voice on the other end of the line was rough and seemingly ill, but she was able to recognize it all the same.

"What is it, Henry?" she asked wearily. "What do you want now?"

"It's all…it's all gone wrong." He mumbled, his words sounding slurred. "Everything…wrong…"

"What's gone wrong?" she asked, wanting to tell him that everything that had gone wrong in his life was his own damn fault.

"Muh-my life's…my life's gone wrong. S'all…s'all slippin' away from m-me…"

"Henry, how much have you been drinking?" she asked, now starting to become impatient. Henry had done this before- called her in the middle of the night in one of his drunken stupors to cry and mourn over the mess he'd made of his life.

"It's not my fault…" Henry muttered, "I've done some fuck-fucked up things in my life, but this…what's happenin' now isn't my fault…"

"Then whose fault is it?" she asked, not bothering to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. "Who's fault is it, Henry?"

She heard the sound of soft, gentle weeping on the other side of the line, "I-I'm…I'm scared, Cat. I'm so fucking scared!"

Cat sat up in the bed, shifting the receiver to the other side of her head. She cast a self-conscious side glance to at Edgar, who was still asleep, and lowered her voice a little,

"What are you scared of?" she asked, gentling her voice, "What is it? Dreams about the war?"

"I don't give a damn what happens to me," he went on, not answering her question, "I don't give a damn about that…buh- buh…but _Harry_-" his voice cracked as Henry said his son's name. He started to cry again, a small, pitiful sound that made Cat cringe in what she almost thought was sympathy,

"Henry, don't cry," she said, "Tell me, is something wrong? Is Harry alright?"

"I'm gonna lose my son, Cat. I'm gonna lose my son, 'less I do everything he tells me to do."

Cat frowned then, her grip on the receiver tightening, "Henry," she said, this time her voice more serious, "Henry, what do you mean? What happened? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"C-Cat," her brother blubbered through his tears, "Cat you, you gotta help me. You gotta find a way to help me get out of this. I can't fucking take this anymore, you understand? I stay in this anymore, he's gonna find a way to kill me! I don't wanna die, Cat. I don't wanna lose my kid!"

"Henry, calm down!" she urged louder, causing Edgar to stir and open his eyes.

"Cat?" he murmured, "What's the matter?"

She didn't answer, lowering her voice, "Listen, Henry, just…calm down, alright? I'll call you back in just a few minutes and we'll…we'll work this out. Stay right where you are, you understand?"

Henry didn't answer, having started weeping quietly again. Cat held the receiver in her hands for a few seconds, trying to fight the disturbed feeling she felt at hearing the sound. She'd heard her brother cry before- but never like that. She didn't think she had ever heard Henry sound so terrified before.

"Shit…_shit_…Jesus Christ…oh God…" he moaned into the phone, "I never meant for this to happen…I never wanted anything like this to…Oh my _God_…" The line seemed to crackle and become filled with static before cutting off completely, filling Cat's ear with nothing but the dial tone. She sighed and hung up the phone.

"Damn it…"

Edgar had woken up by now and sat up in the bed at seeing the expression on her face, "Catherine? What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

She shook her head, "No. No, it's not. Edgar…I think Henry may be in some trouble. Some serious trouble."

Edgar didn't say anything for a long moment, his own expression somber and solemn, "I see. What did he say is the matter?"

"He didn't. Only that…he thinks someone is trying to take Harry away from him. I think it may be a…loan shark or some kind of lender that he owes money to."

"Are you sure that's really what it is?"

"No, but what else could it be?" she asked. Cat sighed heavily, sweeping her hand through her hair, "I think…I think I'm gonna have to go down there. Just to try and..get him out of this."

"No!" Edgar suddenly exclaimed, and she jumped at the tone of his voice. He paused then, lowering it as he continued, "Catherine…I don't want you getting involved in any of this. I'll just… I'll just send a check and-"

"Edgar, what are you talking about?" she asked bewilderingly, "This isn't one of your business deals we're talking about here. This is my brother and my nephew. This is my home. You want me to just stand by and have you write a check? No, I _have_ to go!"

"No you don't!" he insisted, "I'll make sure that nothing bad will happen. I'll go, I'll-"

"No, no I don't think so." Cat cut him off curtly, "I'm going to go home."

The doorbell suddenly rang. The two of them looked at one another in surprise for a moment, then both got out of bed and went out into the hallway towards the stairs.

Isabella was already on her way towards the front door. She opened it, and Cat caught her breath.

Heath.

It had been five days since the night of the last portrait session, and she had cried herself to sleep for every night of them. Even though he had promised her that he would return, Cat had been plagued by a terrible paranoia that Heath had lied, and that he was going to disappear again. Only this time, she had been afraid that he really wouldn't ever come back.

The sight of him was enough to make her want to weep with relief and grief all at the same time.

She and Edgar reached the bottom of the stairs together. Isabella remained where she was, giving Heath a strange, wry kind of look,

"Well." She said, "Isn't this is a surprise?" The sarcasm in her voice was obvious, but Cat wasn't paying attention to that. She was giving all of her attention to Heath- who seemed to be giving all of his attention to her.

Edgar was giving all of his attention to the two of them giving one another all of their attention. He placed a protective hold on Cat's arm, "It's early, Heath." He said defensively, "Is there something we can help you with?"

Heath didn't even give him a single glance, or answer his question. He looked and spoke directly to Cat,

"I just came back from home."

She frowned, "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Heath grimly shook his head, "No, it isn't. Henry's really done it this time, Cat."

"I just got off the phone with him, and he sounded real bad. Scared. I could tell he was drinking, but I thought it was something even worse than that. Is it money trouble again?"

"Worse than that. He's getting ready to lose the Heights to the bank."

She shut her eyes as a low shudder emitted from her lips, "Oh God,…What happened? How he did let this happen?"

"He mortgaged the entire property to try and pay off his debts. The place is a dump. The shop's been shut down for years, the house is practically crumbling from the inside. Everything in it needs to be replaced. You wouldn't even know it anymore."

"Harry," Edgar broke into the conversation then, "How is Harry, is he alright?"

Heath shrugged, "He is now."

"What do you mean?"

"When I got there, he was hiding in the woods that Cat and I used to play in. His clothes were falling apart, he was dirty, and on the verge of starvation."

"Oh my _God_…" Cat moaned under her breath again. The sharp pangs of guilt were eating away at her relentlessly. She'd figured that things were bad back at home- but she'd never imagined that her brother had allowed things to become _that_ bad. The thought of Harry alone, dirty and hungry in that big, open wilderness with no one to care for him was enough to make her sick- even more so when she knew that his being that way was largely her fault.

"Where is Harry?" she asked, "Is he alright now?"

"He's going to be fine. I brought him back here with me." Heath replied.

"With _you_?" Edgar repeated, frowning, "He trusted you enough to come?"

Heath tilted his head sideways. "He asked me to take him." He replied evenly, "Besides, there wasn't anyone else. I wasn't going to leave him for Child Protective Services to pick up now that Henry's in the hospital."

"Henry's in the hospital?" Cat exclaimed, "How- how can that be, I just got off the phone with him!"

"He must have called you from there." Heath answered. A peculiar look came on his face, "Did he say anything that sounded strange to you?"

Edgar broke in again before she could answer, "What's the matter with him? Is he very sick?"

"He has pancreatitis. Too much drinking can do that, or so I hear."

"What do the doctor's say? Is he going to be alright?"

"So long as he quits the booze and changes his diet, then yeah, they say he should pull through." Heath replied.

"He's going to need someone to take care of him for a while," Cat murmured, "And Harry."

"We can hire an in-home care provider." Edgar said, "And as for Harry- well, maybe he can just come here to live with us until Henry gets better."

Cat looked at him sharply, "And what's so wrong with me going there to take care of him?" she asked, "And Harry?"

Edgar cast a self-conscious glance at Heath and Isabella and lowered his voice to answer her, "Catherine, we've been over this. You can't just drop everything to go and dry to pick up the pieces of her your brother's life. It would be just as easy to hire someone and-"

"Edgar this is my family, how can you expect me to just hock Henry off to a complete stranger? Is that what you did when your father was in the hospital? Is it?"

He grimaced, his jaw tightening in frustration, "Catherine-"

"He may be right, Cat." She turned her head, looking at Heath in surprise at what he said, "Henry's really bad off. And his bedside manners haven't improved much- it'll be really hard for whoever does help him get back on his feet. You could be down there for a long time."

"But what about the Heights?" she asked, "Dad's Heights- I have to try and get it back. We can't lose the house, or that land. It's a part of me- it's a part of both Henry and I."

Heath looked at her steadily, "It's a part of me too, Cat. It was all of our home. Don't worry- it'll all get sorted out somehow."

She frowned, "But how?"

He didn't answer. Isabella, who had been silent all this time suddenly broke into the conversation, asking Heath,

"So when are you going back?"

"Two days from now." He replied, "I just thought I'd come back here and let Cat know what was going on."

"Why didn't Henry tell her himself?" Edgar asked, "She just spoke to him on the phone, why wouldn't he want to tell her what happened and ask for her help? He's never had a problem asking us for money before."

"If you ask me, he's ashamed. And rightfully so. He knows how badly he's fucked up this time, and he probably didn't have the courage to tell her the truth." Heath's voice was sardonic and wry, "It's like him."

"What about Ellie?" Cat asked, "When she hears about this she's gonna-"

"I wouldn't let Ellie in on this just yet, Cat." Heath interrupted, "With her still sick, I don't think it would help much to give her bad news that would just upset her. Wait till the storm blows over at least, then you can break it to her." He saw the hesitant look on her face and added, "You know I'm right."

She finally sighed and nodded in agreement, "Okay. No telling Ellie- for now. But," she added quickly, "I still want to go back home with you. I have to. And _you_ know _I'm_ right"

Heath paused for a moment, as he and Edgar exchanged a long look. He let his mouth slightly turn upwards into what could have almost passed as smile, "It's your decision." He said at last, "I'll let you make it. I go back in two days. You know where to find me." With that, he turned around and walked out the front door without another word.

Cat turned to Edgar as soon as the door shut, "I'm going, Edgar." She stated firmly, "I'm going."

Surprisingly enough, she saw the same look of stubborn determination on his face. Instead of addressing her though, he spoke to his sister, "Isabella, we need to be alone…" she hesitated and he shot her a sharp glare as he added, "Now."

Isabella didn't look as though she wanted to go, but she obeyed nonetheless, going upstairs and into her room.

Edgar was silent for a long moment, only staring at Cat in that long, sad stare of his.

"I'll do anything." He finally said. Cat frowned, uncomprehending,

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he replied, "That I will do anything that you want me to do to straighten this mess with Henry out. I'll buy the land and your father's house. I'll pay off any bill that Henry has. I'll let Harry come here and live with us- we can ask your brother to sign over his parental rights and adopt Harry if that's what you really want. I'll do all of that and more…" he shook his head, "Just_ don't_…don't go with Him."

Cat winced at the tone of his voice. He sounded so hurt, as if he knew her innermost thoughts. As if he knew that in her heart she had betrayed him with Heath again and again.

"Why not?" she asked, trying to keep the guilty tremor out of her voice.

"We both know the answer to that question." He replied, taking a step towards her. She stepped back. He shook his head at her in bewildered hurt,

"Why?" he asked her, "Why have you always done that? Every time I think that I'm finally becoming close to you, you move away from me! Is this what you did to him before we met? Is that what loving you was really like for him?"

"Leave him out of this," she objected. Edgar gave a soft, broken laugh,

"Oh, I've tried. Catherine, you have no…_idea_ how hard I've tried to leave him out of it, out of everything that had to do with you and me. But you just don't want to let me do that." He turned away from her, walking a few steps as he swept his hands through his blond hair and looked upwards. He spread his arms out wide when he faced her again, "I don't…Jesus Christ Catherine, I don't know what more I can do to get _through_ to you!" he exclaimed desperately, "I've given you everything that I could, everything that you seemed to want. I've never asked anything from you but to just," he shook his head, "Just_ love_ me! Why can't you do that? Why can't you just love me the way that I love you?"

"Edgar, I do love you-"

"Do you?" he challenged, "How much do you love me? Do you love me so much that you love to watch me when I'm sleeping? Do you love me so much that the only think you're afraid of is me not being there in the morning to wake up with? Do you love me so much that one smile from me is enough to make you know that you have everything in the world? Because that's how much I love you. Do you love me like that, Catherine?" A long silence passed between them before he reached out and tipped her chin up, "Do you?"

Cat looked into his eyes and couldn't bring herself to lie. She shook her head slowly, whispering, "No."

"But that's how much you love him…isn't it?"

She bit her lip hard, not answering. She didn't need to though- there was more than enough painful comprehension in Edgar's eyes.

"Come on." He murmured quietly, "There's something you should see." Without another word, he turned and walked down the hallway in the direction of his office. Cat followed him, even further confused.

He was digging through one of the deep drawers of the enormous mahogany desk. Finally, he pulled out a thick, file folder that had been stuffed so full it was held together by a rubber band. He held it out to her,

"Take it."

Cat took it in both of her hands and sank down into one of the chairs in front of Edgar's desk. He went to stand in front of one of the tall, paned windows and was gazing out of it, hands folded behind his back.

"It's something that I should have told you about a long time ago." He replied without turning to look back at her, "A secret I've kept. Go on, open it."

Cat gingerly opened the file folder, looking at some of the top contents.

There were stacks of papers and photographs. Cat looked at the letterheads of some of the papers and frowned in surprised confusion, "Louis Kane?" she spoke aloud, "Wha- What are these doing here? I thought I saw every single report he ever gave-" she stopped short then as her gaze flitted over some of the photographs.

She stared. And stared.

They were of Heath. One was of him outside Isabella's art studio. Another was of him getting on his motorcycle. And then, one of them was of Heath and her on the night the two of them had been outside the diner. The picture showed the two of them locked in the passionate, but angry kiss they'd shared against the wall.

Cat looked up at Edgar, dumbfounded, "You knew…" she murmured, "You knew about- all this time, you knew-"

"Yes." He broke in calmly, "I knew that you were seeing him…I knew about the portrait sittings." As if he could read the first thoughts that entered her mind, he shook his head, "No, Isabella didn't tell me. It was Kane. And even if he hadn't told me…I think still would have known somehow. I think I knew it all would happen from the day I knew that He was still alive. I could see it all coming- and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

There were more pictures of Heath in other places. Cat looked for the dates on the pictures, but saw none.

"'The day you knew He was still alive,'" she repeated, "What- what do you mean? When were these pictures taken?" She could feel the knots begin to twist in her stomach and her heartbeat begin to quicken with anxiety.

She didn't want to believe what she thought it was that was just on the other side of Edgar's words- what he really wanted her to know.

She didn't want to believe it.

He hesitated, taking a breath before replying, "Some three or four months before Isabella's art opening."

Cat's face and body stayed completely frozen. For a long time, she could literally do nothing but stare at Edgar in stupefied disbelief.

"You mean-" she whispered tremulously, "You knew…you knew that Heath was alive all this time? You knew that he wasn't really dead?"

"Kane never…well, _I _never really knew for sure. But I hoped that he was. When he disappeared for five years, we just assumed that he was. It was easier that way."

"_Easier_?" she breathed out incredulously. Cat pressed her hands to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. She suddenly thought of all the nights she'd spent in lonely, weeping anguish over what she had thought was Heath's death. She thought of the suicidal urges she'd had, all those hours of therapy to try and convince herself that she wasn't going crazy, that she could make it through the next day, the next hour, the next minute, the next second without Heath.

Did Edgar really think that he had made things easier to her by allowing her to believe that Heath was dead and never coming back? The thought of it alone was enough to make her sick.

Cat could already feel the familiar burning behind her eyes. Her hands were shaking.

Edgar still stood at the window with his back to her and arms folded pensively behind him, She knew that he was purposefully avoiding looking at her face. But Cat didn't care about that- she was almost glad, unsure of whether or not she could even bring herself to look him in the eye.

"If he hadn't have come back," she murmured shakily, "If he hadn't come back to us,"

_If he hadn't have come back to me_…

It was what she hadn't said, but the fact that she hadn't said it only made it all the more audible and obvious to the both of them.

"Would you have even told me that he was alive?" she asked. "Would you?"

Edgar didn't hesitate this time, "No." he replied, "If I had had it my way, He would have stayed dead and gone…out of our lives forever."

Cat swallowed the egg in her throat. The room was suddenly becoming hotter and smaller to her, and her breath was quickening, "You kept him from me on purpose?" She shook her head, "How could you have done something like that, Edgar? Are you…are you _crazy_?"

Edgar looked down and shrugged his shoulder once, "I don't know." He muttered, "I was crazy with jealousy of the feelings that you had for him. Feelings that I could never make you feel for me no matter what I did. I was almost sick with it. I was willing to do anything to just keep you here with me."

Cat's jaw tightened bitterly, "That's why you wanted to cut me off from home…everything that could bring me anywhere near Heath."

"I didn't want to cut you off from your home. I really didn't want to do that. But soon…it just didn't seem possible to do anything else. I didn't have a choice."

"You didn't have a choice?" she repeated, her voice sharpening, "How can you even say something like that? How could you possibly justify doing this to me?"

Edgar's face hardened, "Because you're my wife." He replied, "Because I love you and I didn't think I should have had to give you up to someone else."

"You lied to me!" Cat burst out the words, the anger making her voice rise, "You looked me in the eyes every day for the past five years and let me go on thinking that Heath was dead, even when you knew that there was a chance that he wasn't!"

"Yes, I did," Edgar said swiftly, "I lied to you. I hid him from you. You want to make me out to be the bastard in this, fine, I'll be the bastard. But Catherine, everything I did, all of it was only for you. For us. I only did it because I loved you and I couldn't stand the thought of losing you to Him!" He took a hold of her arms and pulled her to him, holding onto her tightly, "Don't you understand? He was ruining our lives, he was breaking us apart! Did you expect me to just stand by and let him take you away from me? I won't_ let_ him do that to us. You're not his, you're mine! You belong to me, goddammit!"

"You lying son of a bitch, I don't belong to _anyone_!" she shouted back, struggling against his grip, "Least of all you! You think just because I married you, you have a right to own me? You think just because you're jealous, you had a right to keep him from me?"

"Yes!" he barked back, "I had every right to do anything I had to do to keep us together!"

Cat snorted incredulously, "Keep us together," she muttered, "You don't have any idea of what you've just done!" she wrenched herself out of his arms. The two of them stared at each other, Cat in fury, Edgar in weary frustration. She shook her head, speaking the next words with cold realization,

"I can't be with you anymore…not after this."

Edgar also shook his head, taking a step towards her, "You don't really mean that, Catherine." He said quietly, "You don't really want-"

But Cat only took a step back from him, "Yes, I do." She interrupted, her voice louder and clearer, "I do want it. It's over, Edgar. I want a divorce."

"_No_," Edgar spoke the word with so much vehemence it took her by surprise, "Catherine, we swore when we first got married that no matter how hard things may get, we'd never do that-"

She smiled bitterly, "You lied to me. What makes you think I have to keep any kind of promise to you now?"

"Catherine, don't do this. Don't do this to us, don't do this to yourself."

"Stay away from me," she warned, "Just stay away."

But he only kept talking, "If you want a separation, I'll give you a separation. We'll live apart from each other, you can rent your own apartment in the city. I'll pay for it and make sure you have anything you want. I won't try and call you or contact you in anyway, I swear it. But _don't_…" he shook his head, "Don't do this thing. Not when it'll only hurt you in the end."

Cat gave a harsh laugh, "'Hurt me?' Now suddenly you're concerned about hurting me?"

Edgar's face changed then, and he was silent for a few long moments, "Yes, I am." He replied, "Whatever you think of me now, I've always been concerned about you, Catherine. That's the truth. I've never done anything for you or to you that I didn't think would help you and make your life better. I love you, and that's always meant something to me, even during the times when it meant nothing to you. I know that you believe that I lied about Heath just for my own benefit, but that isn't true. It isn't. I did it for you too. I wanted to protect you. I still do."

"Protect me? You really think you have to protect me from Heath-"

"Yes." Edgar cut her off swiftly, "You still don't understand, do you? You don't remember what he did to you when he left. I remember that it almost killed you. It made you lose sight of everything in your life that was really important, of everything you worked so hard for. You were willing to throw it all away for him. You were willing to lose a part of yourself. Is that supposed to be healthy? Is that supposed to be love?"

Cat stared at him disdainfully, remembering the night she'd been in Heath's apartment. He'd said that Edgar didn't understand her, that he didn't understand pain…that he didn't understand love.

She realized as she looked at her husband that Heath had been right all along. Edgar didn't understand- not her, nor anything about love and pain.

"Think whatever you want," she replied simply, "It won't change my mind. It's over, Edgar. It's over."

Edgar was silent for a long moment. A grim realization came over his features, and he slowly nodded, "You're right," he answered, "You want to leave, you're free to go. I'm done holding onto you." He held up his hands in defeated acknowledgment, "I'm just…I'm done." He turned away from her and walked back over to the window behind his desk, assuming his previous stance as he looked outside the glass pane.

Cat remained where she stood for a few moments, the realization of what had just happened sinking into her. She finally managed to turn to go, but stopped in her tracks when she heard Edgar's voice again,

"Catherine." He turned to look at her then, his voice calm and solemn, "If you walk out that door… If you walk out of this house to go to Him…don't ever expect me to let you come back. Because I won't. Do you understand?"

She nodded, mildly surprised at how easily it came out of her mouth, "Yes."

Edgar let his gaze linger on her for a long moment. His soft, blue eyes almost seemed to be making one final plea to her to change her mind. _Just stay,_ they almost seemed to be saying, _Just stay with me…_

Cat felt a slight tug on the inside of her as she looked into Edgar's eyes. It was that same stab of guilt she'd felt the day she left him in the hospital with his dying father, the same stab of guilt she'd felt when she left him asleep in their bed to meet Heath at the diner.

And now she was about to do it again; running away from Edgar for Heath's sake.

Only now, it seemed that she was doing it for the last time.

She thought for a moment that her courage was going to falter, and that she was going to apologize to Edgar and forget the entire thing.

Then she thought of Heath's eyes. She thought of his lips. She thought of the feel of his hands on her.

Cat turned around and walked out of the room without another word.


	44. Chapter 44: No Guarantees

_A/N: Time for another update. Hope it's enjoyed by all. Please read and review (you know I love to hear your feedback, plus it REALLY encourages me to continue) Thanks for all the love/support._

_-Jess_

**Chapter Forty Four: No Guarantees**

Isabella burst into Edgar's office, flustered and obviously upset. He was standing at the window, looking outside solemnly.

"Is Catherine leaving you?" his sister demanded "Is that really true?"

"Yes." He replied.

Isabella looked horrified. "Why? Edgar, what- what happened?"

"She found out that I knew Heath was alive months before she did and never told her."

Isabella stared at him, "You knew that he was alive?" she murmured. "Oh my God…And you never told her because you were afraid that she would leave you."

"That's right." Edgar said, "But it didn't do much good, did it? She's gone." He let his voice drop to a whisper, "She's gone."

"Well, maybe…maybe the two of you can just talk about it. You're both probably just upset and just need some time alone to think."

"Isabella, it's over. She made her choice. She wanted to go, so I let her."

Isabella seemed to be getting more upset with every passing minute, "No, Edgar you can't just give up like this! Go after her, make her listen to you."

"I've been trying to do that for too long. If she wants to make this work, she's going to have do it herself."

She'd come around the desk while he was speaking. Taking a hold of his arm, she gave it a firm jerk, "For God's sake, Edgar will you just stop being such a damn martyr!" she snapped, "Now just get a hold of yourself and think about this! Don't you know what she'll do now? She's going to run right back to Heath. Are you really going to sit back and let that happen?"

The muscles in his jaw tightened, but he only replied, "Maybe they deserve each other." He replied quietly.

"_No_!" Isabella said emphatically. She didn't seem to realize how distraught she was becoming as she continued on, "No they don't! They're all wrong for each other! Catherine doesn't give a damn about Heath, she doesn't give a damn about anyone but herself. Heath just can't get over her because she's always strung him along and made him think she actually cared about him!"

Edgar stared at her sadly, reaching out and placing a hand on her cheek, "Telling yourself that over and over again won't make it true, Isabella…and trying to keep them apart won't make him care about you."

She looked back at him, surprised, "You know about me and Heath?"

"There wasn't much to find out. You were attracted to him. He wanted to get Catherine back and revenge himself on me. Even if I didn't know for sure, I would have assumed that sooner or later something like this would have happened. I only hoped you would have been smart enough to realize the truth."

"What truth are you talking about?"

"That Heath doesn't love you, Isabella. He's never going to love you, or even give so much as a care that you're alive or dead. He's not even really interested in having sex with you. He's only interested in using you to get what he wants, and that's Catherine…not you."

"Catherine!" Isabella spat out the name as if it were a foul word, "You think he's still in love with her? Heath _hates_ her! You're not with him, you don't hear the way he talks about her to me. He's never forgiven her for what she did to him! He wants to hurt her, not get her back!"

Edgar stared at her sympathetically, "You really don't understand yet, do you? Can't you see that he's trying to do both?"

"That's not true-"

"Really," Edgar broke in, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

She was quiet then, saying nothing.

"No," he said, "No, you're not sure. You know what he'll do the minute he finds out that Catherine's left me, Isabella. You know exactly what he'll do."

Isabella seemed to flinch against the words, but she shook her head stubbornly, "I'm not like you, Edgar." She murmured, "I can't just let go. I can't."

"Why are you so determined to hang onto hang onto him?" he asked her, "You don't even really know him."

She nodded, "I know. I don't."

"Then why are you doing this to yourself?"

Isabella looked into his eyes, the clear blue eyes that were practically duplicates of her own, "Because I love him. Even though I don't even know him, even though it hurts, even though I know he'll never love me...I love him."

Suddenly Isabella felt as though she wanted to cry. Her eyes became hot and stingy and her throat tightened. She swallowed the egg in her throat, "Edgar..." she whispered hoarsely, "Every time we're together it's like I'm invisible to him. Like he's deliberately avoiding looking at me. I think he hates looking over at me in bed and seeing that I'm not Catherine. And then there are times when he calls out her name-" she broke off then, her voice cracking_ "God_…" She went over to where he stood and threw her arms around him in a desperate embrace. He returned it, stroking her back as she cried softly.

"It's not going to get any better," he said, "You know that don't you? The longer you stay, the more he'll hurt you."

"How do you know that?"

"I know, Isabella." Edgar replied.

"You mean because of Catherine?"

"Yes."

A short period of silence followed, then Isabella spoke again, "Edgar?" she asked tentatively,

"Yes?"

Did you...did you know it was over before she left?"

He didn't answer at first, seeming to be carefully considering his answer, "I keep asking myself that," he finally murmured, "I keep remembering every day, every moment that I could feel her pulling away from me and drawing closer to him. Then I remember the first time that I saw them together...and I think that I knew then that I would never really be able to make her love me in the way that I loved her. I think that ever since that day I've just been trying to do everything that I could to change her mind- or maybe just to kid myself into believing that I could...I don't know anymore."

She pulled away after a few minutes, asking "Do you hate me for being with him?"

Edgar looked at her and shook his head, "No. I'm sorry for you- but I don't hate you. I couldn't do that if I wanted to. Do what you feel that you have to. I won't try and stop you."

Isabella nodded, then pulled herself out of his arms, walking away towards the bedroom door. She paused just before going out, calling back,

"I love you, Edgar."

Edgar gave her a soft, gentle smile, "I love you too."

When she was gone, he turned back to the window and whispered, "Goodbye."

* * *

Cat was bringing clothes out of her bedroom closet and throwing them into disheveled piles into a pair of suitcases. Occasionally, she wiped away a tear that managed to escape her eyes, sniffling as she packed. Her hands shook a little, and she worked to try and still them.

She was going to do it. She was going to leave. It was obvious that it was meant to be this way- that she was supposed to leave Edgar. Why else would she find out that he lied to her for the past five years at that time, when Heath had come back into her life? Maybe it would be better this way, she thought to herself. Maybe she was never supposed to have married Edgar at all.

Either way, she was going. Her mind was made up. And Cat couldn't deny that at that moment, to have a reason- a _good_ reason she believed- to leave Edgar, was the chance that she had secretly longed for for months. It would give her freedom- she was free now, free to do whatever she liked…

The door to the bedroom opened and Ellie came in, walking unsteadily, and looking frail in her bathrobe. She looked on in mortification at the suitcases and Cat packing clothes into them,

"Cat, what is this?" she asked, "Isabella told me that you're leaving Edgar."

Cat didn't even bother to turn around to face her, continuing to pack as she replied, "Ellie, get back into bed. You're not strong enough to be walking around."

Ellie only came forward to her and took a weak hold of her arm, "What happened? Why are you doing this?"

Cat squared her jaw tightly, "Ellie…I'm asking you to go back to bed, and leave me alone."

Ellie's voice hardened, "What did Heath say to you? What did he do to make you decide to do this?"

Cat scoffed harshly, "Heath? Heath didn't do anything! Instead of trying to judge him, why don't you ask Edgar why I'm leaving, he should be able to tell you!"

Ellie stared at her, "Whatever he did," she said, "He only did it because he loves you, Cat."

"He did it because he's a lying, jealous coward! He was so jealous of what Heath and I had together that he was willing to lie to me for five years just to keep us apart." She threw a skirt down into the suitcase and turned to face Ellie, "He lied about Heath being dead! Did you know_ that_? Edgar knew for five years that there was a chance that Heath didn't die in that fire, Ellie! He knew for sure that Heath was alive four months before I did and he said nothing to me! He would have let me go on thinking that I had lost Heath forever just to keep me away from him! Am I supposed to just forgive him for something like that?"

"Yes." Ellie answered evenly, "Yes, you are. Have you ever stopped to think why Edgar would feel as though he had to do something like that, Cat? Have you ever bothered to wonder what would make a man like Edgar so desperate and jealous to do something like that? Think of all the things he's forgiven _you_ for!"

"I don't have to listen to this," Cat began, but Ellie jerked her arm hard, forcing her to face her,

"Yes, you do! You've got listen to _somebody_, Cat! It's time that you learned to accept the truth!"

"You want truth?" Cat suddenly snapped at her angrily, "Fine Ellie, I'll give you the truth. When I met Edgar, I was young and stupid. I had my head in the clouds and was chasing after some dumb pipe dream that I thought I wanted. He was charming, cute and rich and he could make that dream come true. I fucked him, and he made me a model. I married him because I thought Heath was gone forever and that he hadn't forgiven me for what I did to him. If he'd come back on the day of the wedding, I can't say that I don't think it wouldn't have crossed my mind to leave Edgar in a second. Not because I don't care about Edgar, Ellie. I do care for him- but because I've _never_ loved him the way that I'm in love with Heath, and I never will. Not even if I wanted to. I've had to keep that buried inside of me for five years, and I just can't do it anymore. I need some time to get away and be alone. Why can't you at least try and understand that?"

"So now you're just going to run away and be with Heath- is that it, Cat?"

"I'm leaving to try and fix another mess that Henry's got himself into!"

Ellie stopped short then, frowning in confusion, "What? What do you mean, another mess? What's Henry done now?"

Cat sighed, suddenly remembering her intent to keep the incident at home a secret from Ellie. Hearing the news of Henry's gambling and neglecting Harry in addition to her leaving Edgar would only further upset her and possibly make her health worse.

"It's not…that big of an issue," she lied. "Henry's just up against some money problems, and I'm going to help him get out of it."

"There's something more you're not telling me," Ellie said, "What is it, Cat? Did something happen to Henry? To Harry? Are they alright?"

Cat turned on her, "Ellie, Henry's broke. He's broke, in the hospital, and he mortgaged The Heights to try and pay off gambling debts. Harry was found in the woods, dirty, neglected and alone. The shop's been shut down, the house is falling apart, and now Henry's in the hospital with pancreatitis, unable to pay the medical bills."

Ellie stared at her in dumbfounded silence for a long moment. She looked as though she'd been kicked in the stomach, and Cat had a stab of guilt shoot through her, suddenly feeling as though perhaps she shouldn't have said so much to Ellie so soon after her release from the hospital.

"How-" the older woman whispered, "How could this have happened?"

Cat shook her head, looking downwards, "I don't know." She murmured, "I mean- we all knew that Henry's been…bad off. But I just don't think we ever considered that he'd ever do something like mortgage the Heights- Dad's Heights…" her voice trailed off and she shook her head again, "I feel like it's all my fault, Ellie."

"Don't say that, Cat. We're all to blame here."

"Heath said that Harry had been alone for days," she murmured, "Days, Ellie…"

Ellie frowned again, "Heath? What's he got to do with any of this?"

"He's the one that found the place like that. He brought Harry back with him- he's been taking care of him." She paused a moment before continuing, "Heath's going back home in two days to try and help settle everything, and I'm going with him, Ellie."

Ellie wasn't looking at Cat. She was staring off into the distance, seeming lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she exhaled deeply, shaking her head, "So, that's it…" she murmured, "That's how he's going to do it."

"Do what?" Cat asked. "What do you mean?"

Ellie was silent for a long moment, "Why do you think Heath is going back to try and settle this thing, Cat? Why would he do _anything_ that would help Henry in any way?"

Cat paused before she answered, thinking. Suddenly, the question did seem entirely legitimate and she was surprised at herself that she hadn't wondered it before on her own. It did seem very…peculiar that Heath would be willing to do something to help Henry after the way that her brother had mistreated him for all those years.

"It's the Heights, Ellie," she finally answered, "It belonged to my father. Heath and I grew up in that house together. We grew up on that land. We-"

"Stop and think about all of this, Cat." Ellie interrupted her, "Just stop and think about it. Your father was a stranger who bought Heath a hamburger after he tried to steal his wallet. When he died, he virtually left Heath nothing. He knew that Henry hated him and could have thrown him off the land, so that he could never see you again, but Will still completely left Heath out of his will. Knowing all of that, do you really think Heath is doing this for your father?"

Cat cringed against the harshness of the words, "It's still the land, Ellie. The only home he's ever known-"

"Cat, that home is nothing but a house of old plywood and shingles. The Heights is nothing but a crumbling auto shop in the middle of an open field. Heath worked in that garage like a dog for years. Henry made his life a living hell on that land. The last memories he has on it are nothing but painful. He's not doing it for the land."

"What about me?" Cat demanded impatiently, "Don't I count in any of this? Or is too hard for you to accept that maybe he's doing this for my sake? He loves me Ellie!"

Ellie looked back at her and answered evenly, "And you left him. What's more you rejected him for someone else. Heath could have been the famous artist that he is now when the two of you were still children- but he chose not to be for your sake. He gave up everything for you, Cat. And you turned your back on him. Do you really believe that five years of silence has made him suddenly willing to forgive you for all of that?"

Cat was silenced at that, becoming lost in her own thoughts. She really hadn't stopped to consider any of what Ellie had just said, and like before, she was surprised that none of it had even remotely occurred to her.

The thought that Heath still bore ill will towards her father for what he had done before his death disturbed her. Cat had forgiven Will for leaving Heath out of his will long ago- she'd assumed that Heath had done the same without a second thought. The possibility that perhaps he hadn't was just too unsettling for consideration…

And the Heights- her father's pride and joy, the sign of all his hard work and laboring: surely that must have still meant something to Heath. Especially when it still meant something to her. It had to mean more to him than just the place where her brother had tortured and bullied him. It just had to…

It was the final consideration that bothered her most of all though, especially now that she was going to leave Edgar. What was she going to do if Heath still spurned her? She would be alone and miserable- even worse than before when she'd still been in her marriage. He'd come back to her- even when he could have allowed her to go on thinking that he was dead, Heath had still chosen to come back into her life. No matter what he said, Cat couldn't bring herself to believe that he had done that just to merely hurt and torture her for what she had done to him in the past. He still loved her. He still wanted her. She had been able to see it in his eyes that night in his apartment. She tried not to think about what he had said that night outside the diner.

"_What I want is revenge…"_

Was that what Ellie was trying to say? That everything that Heath was doing was purely motivated by revenge? That it had nothing to do with their history together and the feelings he had for her?

She shook her head, both in response to what Ellie had said, and in rejection of her inner thoughts,

"I don't know what you're getting at," she lied, "And I don't think I want to know… but I'm going home, Ellie" Her eyes met with Ellie's, the gaze firm and determined, "Whether you're coming with me or not…I'm going home."

"You're making a mistake, Cat." Ellie replied simply. "You need to know that. You're making a big mistake."

Cat placed the shirt in her hands in the suitcase, then closed it. "That's where you're wrong, Ellie. For the first time in a long time…I feel like I'm doing the right thing."

* * *

Isabella stared up at the ceiling of the motel room, her face bleak and yet thoughtful. She shivered from the draft in the air and pulled the bed sheet up higher over her naked body.

Beside the bed, Heath was getting dressed, stepping into his underwear and pants. He sat down on the side of the bed to lace back up his shoes. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced back at her, seeming to notice that she wasn't getting up. "You staying?" he asked her in that same tone of pure indifference.

Isabella didn't answer, only continuing to look up at the ceiling. She'd had the strongest urge to cry that entire night, and only at that moment were the tears finally seeming to be too strong to hold at bay.

"Have there been other women?" she murmured shakily.

"What are you talking about?"

"Besides me and Catherine." She whispered Cat's name, then let her eyes meet with his, "Have you ever slept with any other women? Did you find any others to fuck while you were away?"

Heath stared at her, not answering. He didn't have to though. Isabella could see the answer in his eyes.

"That's why you hate me so much, isn't it?" she asked, "I'm the only woman that you've… _cheated_ on Catherine with. I'm nothing to you but a reminder that you still don't have her."

He stood up, picking up his leather jacket and motorcycle helmet, "I'm leaving." He said, "Do what you want."

She waited until he was just about to walk out the door to say it, "Catherine's left Edgar."

Heath froze in the doorway, standing very still. He turned his head to look at her. His face was blank, but his eyes were anything but expressionless. She could tell that he was genuinely surprised.

Isabella felt her eyes stinging even more and rubbed at them roughly with the back of her wrist. "Yeah." She continued, "She left him. The funny thing is… I think she actually means it."

"When?" Heath asked, his voice very quiet and serious.

"She packed a bag and left last night. We haven't heard from her since." She snorted wryly, "At first I thought she'd go running straight to you. Then I remembered that it was Catherine...and that she never does anything that makes sense."

"She found out, didn't she?" he asked, though it sounded more like a statement rather than a question. "She found out that he lied to her for all those years."

Isabella shook head, "She would have left eventually even if she never found out about that. This was just her easy way out." The tears were pricking behind her eyes now, and she bit her lip hard in one final attempt to keep them away, "So…" she murmured shakily, "What happens now? You throw me away in the garbage and the two of you go off into the sunset and live happily ever after?"

Heath didn't answer. She shook her head with a tight, grim smile. "Go on, go after her. Take her back to your precious Heights and live out your precious little fantasy…I can wait."

"Wait for what?" Heath asked her.

"For you to figure out that you still don't have her. Even when she's with you there, even when she's in your arms, even while you're fucking her…" Isabella looked at him then, her gaze chilly and bitter, "You still won't have her."

He raised his brow at her challengingly, "And what makes you so sure of that?"

The tone of his voice should have frightened her, but Isabella didn't care at that moment. She chuckled shortly at him, "You and Edgar think you're so different from each other, don't you? You've got yourselves convinced that you're the only one who can really love Catherine, and that the other is just trying to sabotage some great, destined love that you share with her." She sat up in the bed, clenching the sheet around herself at the chest in a knot, "Open up your eyes, Heath!" she suddenly snapped, "Edgar didn't ruin your relationship with Cat! Catherine did that all on her own! Just like you didn't even need to ruin their marriage- she ruined it herself! Or are you so in love with her that you can't see the truth for what it is?"

Heath suddenly grabbed her up by the arms off the bed, jerking her so hard that she dropped the bed sheet and yelped with pain, "Shut up," He ordered brusquely, "Just shut the fuck up. You're full of shit, Isabella."

"You think so?" she retorted, "Just wait! Wait and see, and we'll see how much shit I'm full of! You wait for the day that she gets tired of playing fantasy with you and wants to run away. You wait for her to start looking at you like you're nothing again. You wait for her to sneak in a closet with a telephone and call my brother's phone number-"

The blow came so hard and so suddenly that it almost took Isabella's breath away. She hit the mattress of the bed so hard from the force of it, that she bounced off the side and tumbled down to the floor. Her first instinct was to run her tongue over the rows of her teeth to make sure none of them were loose. As she did, she cringed as she felt the pain from the split in her lip. A gasping, shaking sob escaped her lips once as she raised her hand to gently dab at the sprouting blood that had formed at her mouth. She raised her eyes to look at Heath wearily,

"Go on and hit me," she said, "Fuck me, then hit me, I don't care. It won't change a damn thing. It won't change her. She's the selfish little bitch she was before you left, and she'll still be that selfish little bitch even after you carry her off back to The Heights!"

Heath looked down at her disdainfully, before turning and heading for the motel room door without another word.

Isabella vaulted herself up off the floor and hurried across the room, managing to get between Heath and the door just in the nick of time. She blocked his way out of the room, the tears freely flowing down her face.

"Get out of my way." Heath ordered, but she stood her ground.

"Don't you do that!" she demanded, "Don't you _dare _think you can treat me like dirt and get away with it! I'll tell Catherine! I'll tell her about us-" Her words were abruptly and suddenly cut off, as Heath lashed out and clamped his hand around her throat and slammed her against the door to the motel room. She yelped at the brusqueness of his grip and gave struggled to catch her breath as he squeezed at her windpipe. Heath brought his face very close to Isabella's. His voice was calm, but it was the look in his eyes that made her entire body run cold,

"You say one word," he murmured, "And I'll kill you. You understand?"

Isabella stared at him, so stunned with fear that she could only nod wordlessly.

Heath let go of her throat, then gave her rough shove to the side, clearing his way to go out the door.

Isabella stayed frozen where she was when he was gone, panting heavily as tried to catch her breath and stifle the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"You'll see," she whispered aloud bitterly, "You'll see…"

* * *

It was night when Cat pulled her car in front of the Heath's building. The streets were quiet and still.

She switched the car off and pulled the key out of the ignition, but instead of getting out, simply sat there in silence, staring straight ahead of her.

It had been two days since she'd left Edgar. After her argument with Ellie, Cat had finished packing two suitcases, got into her car and driven away from the mansion. But instead of coming straight to Heath's loft apartment, she'd simply driven the car around the city, not caring where she went. Her mind had been full of thoughts, and she'd needed the time alone to try and process them.

Now that she had finally stopped wandering and was sitting outside of Heath's apartment, Cat suddenly found her courage faltering. It wasn't that she was thinking of going back to Edgar- she was just feeling nervous of going back to Heath.

For that was what she was really doing, wasn't it? She may have been coming under the guise of returning home to try and fix the mess with Henry and the Heights, but Cat knew that Heath knew that her going back home with him meant more than that. Edgar had known it as well- it was why he had pleaded with her not to go. All of them had known that Heath offering Cat the opportunity to return home with him had really been his final way of offering her the chance to be with him again.

Cat believed that it was the finality of the offer that had been the strongest incentive she had to leave. Heath was making it clear to her that this was her final chance to choose him. There would be no second, third or fourth chances. This was it. It was now or never.

She hadn't been able to let the chance slip through her fingers once more- she was going to take it this time. She was going to return- to her home, to Heath, to the life that she had once lived.

The only thing that scared her about returning was the question of just what she would be returning to. Cat was worried that in all of the years that had passed, far too much had changed; her home, Heath, the feelings between them, even herself.

What would it be like now? Would it be different, and if so, would it be better or worse? Had things been too damaged to be repaired?

She was scared- both of what she knew had happened, and what she didn't know had happened to change the situation.

Cat clenched and unclenched her hands around the steering wheel and looked up through the window to Heath's building. She stared at the window she knew belonged to him. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Then, without another pause, got out of the car. She retrieved her suitcase from the backseat, then approached the entrance to the building. Every step she took up its staircase felt heavier than the first. She finally came to the door and taking a deep breath, knocked her knuckle against it twice.

A moment or two of silence passed, then the door unlocked, and swung open.

Heath stared at her for a long moment- his gaze was strange. He didn't look irritated to see her, but he didn't look happy either. He looked as though he had expected to see her outside his door at two a.m. in the morning.

"You came." He stated.

Cat couldn't say anything. The words seemed stuck in her throat the longer she looked into his eyes.

"You came." Heath repeated, but the second time there was something different about the way he said it the second time. It only confirmed Cat's belief that Heath took her coming with him to return to their home as a means of ending her relationship with Edgar and beginning again with him.

"I-" she opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short. The words she wanted to say wouldn't come out- an apology for waiting so long to do this, a plea for him to take her back so that everything could go back to the ways things were before, a declaration that she had and would continue to love him until the day she died-none of it would come. So instead, she said the next thing that came to her mind,

"I…I want to see Harry."

Heath stepped back to open the door for her to come inside the apartment. After he shut the door behind her, he led her over to the corner of the wide, open loft room, where the bed was.

Harry was lying asleep amid the blankets, his thin physique nearly eclipsed in the cushions. He was curled up in a tight ball, hugging himself as if he was cold or trying to disappear inside his own embrace.

There were dark, shadowy circles beneath his eyes. The bones in his cheeks protruded sharply and the skin was tightly drawn in. His dark hair fell across his face in soft, curly hanks. The contrast of its color was so harsh against the pigment of his skin that it made Harry's flesh seem overly pale and waxen.

Cat slowly lowered herself down to sit on the side of the bed, feeling her insides wrench at the sight of him. It was just that he looked so small, and weak…

She reached out and gently placed her hand against his temple, sweeping back some of his hair. She whispered the words as she thought them, "He looks so much like Dad."

"He'll be alright, Cat." Heath said from behind her.

But she only shook her head, "How can you say that? Look at him…"

"He's not as weak as he looks. Believe me: he'll be fine."

"But he wouldn't have been," she said, her voice giving the smallest of tremors, "He wouldn't have been fine. He would have starved or frozen to death back there and he would have been all alone if you hadn't have-" she turned her head to look back at him, "You saved him…why?"

Heath shrugged, "Why wouldn't I have saved him?"

"Because he's Henry's son, and Henry hated you." She answered, "Because you hated him…and I know that you still do."

Heath was silent for a moment. He muttered, "Maybe that's why I did it."

Cat frowned, "What do you mean?"

It was his turn to shake his head, "Nothing."

She looked back down at Harry and touched his face again. At the touch of her hand, he stirred a little, sighing in his sleep and hugging himself tighter. The position he was in reminded her of a pose that she sometimes used to find Heath asleep in when they were young and back at home. It would be on nights when she couldn't find rest for herself and sneak out of her bedroom, across the roof and into his bedroom. When Heath was sleeping, he would be in a similar pose to Harry's; tightly holding himself as he were trying to ward off some invisible attack, or perhaps maybe even just trying to disappear into his own body.

Cat swept her hands through her hair, combing the thick hanks back from her face. "I need a drink…" she murmured to herself, "I need a drink right now…" Perhaps a drink would help to dull the painful stings of regret that were jabbing at her. A strong enough drink or two could help her to forget all of her regrets, or at least not be so haunted by them for at least a night.

Heath was already coming towards her with a glass in his hand. He handed her the whiskey without a word and she accepted it. She grimaced at the smoky, bitter taste. Not quite prepared, she nearly choked as she swallowed it and ended up nearly gagging it down.

Heath tried to take the glass away from her, but Cat only moved away from him, and sat down on a window sill by the bed, raising the glass to her lips again. By the time she had coughed and choked her way to the bottom of the glass, Cat's eyes were watering and her mouth and throat felt as though they were on fire.

She pushed the glass a little away from her, "Give me another." She managed to gasp.

"You've had enough." He answered.

"I want another."

She expected him to turn her down again, but to her surprise, he poured more of the amber liquid into her glass. Cat stared at it and began to raise the glass to her lips again but paused just before taking a sip. She could suddenly feel bile rising up her burning throat and her stomach lurching.

Clamping her hand over her mouth she bolted up from the window and to the bathroom, just barely managing to get to the toilet in time.

By the time she had finished vomiting up the bitter, still burning contents of her stomach, tears of frustration, exhaustion and intoxication were streaming down her cheeks. She breathed in haggard, shaking gasps, clinging to the sides of the porcelain bowl as if her life depended upon it.

A clear glass of water appeared by her side. She wearily looked up into Heath's face, suddenly feeling too tired to feel embarrassment or shame at him seeing her like that.

"Drink it." He instructed and she obeyed, savoring the coolness of the water down her throat. When it was gone, she stayed knelt down on the bathroom floor, looking blindly into the air. For a long time, there was nothing but silence between them. Then, Cat broke it, speaking aloud in a dull, but clear voice,

"When I first left…I just got in my car and drove. I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going, I just drove and drove without stopping."

"What were you thinking about?" he asked her.

"At first? I was thinking about Edgar. I was thinking about the look on his face when I walked out that door. I couldn't get it out of my head. I don't think I'd ever seen him look so hurt before." She shrugged, "I've tried telling myself that it doesn't matter because he'll get over it eventually. That he'll just learn to forget about me…" she looked up at Heath, "Do you think that's true?"

Heath shook his head, "No. He's not going to forget you. He's not going to be able to get over it. Not eventually. Not ever. It'll always stay with him. It'll always hurt- just as badly as the day that it happened."

Cat winced at that, "What makes you so sure?"

"Some people can't just learn to 'get over' losing someone that they care about, Cat. Not everyone is as good at that as you are."

She looked away from both the look in his eyes and the brunt of the words, but said nothing in her own defense. She knew that she probably deserved to hear them. It was true, after all. She'd hurt both Heath and Edgar terribly. It was obvious that Heath hadn't gotten over the pains she'd caused him- his bitterness towards her was proof of that. What reason did she have to think that Edgar would be any different?

Cat finally closed her eyes and placed her hands at the sides of her temples that were beginning to throb, "What more do you want from me?" she asked weakly, "I can't change what I've done, or what's happened, you know that. I've said I was sorry, and I am. But I'm here now," she let her eyes open and dropped her hands from her head, saying more emphatically, "I'm here _now_!"

Gripping the sides of the toilet bowl, she rose to her feet and faced him, "If you don't want me here, if you don't want me to go back with you, then say so right now. I'll walk out that door, and I won't come back," she paused, taking a step closer to him as her voice gentled, "But if you do …if you do want me here, then for God's sake, stop trying to punish me! Stop playing this damn game!"

He didn't reply at first, but she thought she saw a change enter his face. She felt her breath quicken as he closed the remaining space between them so that they stood mere inches away from one another.

Heath brought his hand up and let the back of his fingers brush against the side of her face. Cat could have cried at the sensation- his touch felt exactly as it had all those years ago before he had left. She placed her hand over his as he touched her, feeling the coolness of his skin.

"You're right," he replied. His voice was smooth and almost gentle- the way it used to sound. "You're right. No more punishments…no more games." His hand had drifted to her temple and was sliding into her hair.

Cat felt her heart beating faster. Her hands gently touched Heath's arms, then when she saw that he didn't intend to pull back, or push her away, she leaned in closer to him, searching the endless depths of his eyes with her own.

He was so close to her now that she could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with her own. She rose up on her tip toes to bring her face even nearer to his.

Heath's jaw was clenched with frustrated tension. He shook his head as he stared down at her, "Your eyes," he muttered, "I saw those damn eyes everywhere I went when I left. They followed me no matter what I did to try to escape them. _You_ followed me…"

"_Heath_..." Cat breathed his name as if it were a plea, a burning wish for him to kiss her. And sure enough, within seconds, she could see his mouth moving downwards to hers. Cat let her eyes drift shut as a shaking sigh of relief escaped her lips.

_God…_

Their lips had just touched one another's when then bathroom door suddenly creaked, and the two of them started apart.

Cat felt an incredible pang of disappointment at the sight of Harry hovering in the corner of the doorway looking up at them. Even Heath seemed irritated,

"What is it?" he asked the little boy impatiently.

"Phone." Harry answered, his voice so quiet that Cat had to strain to even understand what he had said, "Phone was ringing." He brought his hand from behind his back and help up Heath's cell phone.

Heath reached down to take it. "I'll be back." He said shortly, and walked from out of the bathroom and out of the apartment without another word, leaving Cat and Harry alone together.

She stared down at her dark haired nephew, and he stared back at her. His gaze didn't seem suited for a boy his age. It was observant and almost reflective, having none of the child-like curiosity that she would have expected.

Cat decided to be the one to break the silence, not sure if Harry would have ever decided to speak on his own, "Do you know who I am?" she asked him.

Harry nodded, "Aunt." He replied.

"That's right. And do you know my name?"

At this he shook his head. Cat placed her hand over her chest, "My name is Cat."

He made no remark to that, only continuing to stare at her in that reflective gaze of his.

Cat decided to lower herself back down to her haunches so that the boy didn't have to keep craning his neck back to look at her. "Harry," she said carefully, "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded his head, so she continued, "Do you know why your daddy is in the hospital?"

"Sick."

"Yeah. He's very, very sick. I'm not sure how long he'll be away from home. It could be a really long time. Does that make you sad?"

Harry paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head back and forth. Cat wasn't surprised by the reply- at least he was being honest.

"That's alright. I understand. Do you like being with Heath? Is he nice to you?"

"He gives me food." Harry answered, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Cat smiled at him sadly, "That's good." She murmured, "It's late: do you want to go back to bed?"

He nodded and she continued, "Okay. C'mon," she reached out to take his hand, but he abruptly drew away from her.

"It's alright, Harry," she assured, "I'm not going to hurt you. C'mon, give me your hand."

He hesitated for a moment or two, then slipped his smaller hand into her own.

Cat led him back over to the bed in the corner of the outer room and lifted him up on the mattress. She watched as he bundled himself up in the blankets, half-expecting him to ask her to stay with him until he fell asleep. He didn't though—Harry rolled over onto his side so that he faced away from her, and within a few mere moments, Cat could hear the regular sound of his breathing that let her know he had fallen back asleep.

She reached out to touch his hair again gently, her lips curling up into a faint smile. He looked so peaceful in his sleep.

"It's alright, Harry," she murmured "We're going home now- and everything will be alright. Everything will be alright…"


	45. Chapter 45: Homeward Bound

_A/N: Hello, all! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. And as part of my present to you, here's another update. Please read and please, **please **review to let me know what you think. Last chapter I didn't hear as much feedback as I would have liked, and I **really** do look forward to reading you guy's reviews and comments. They are a serious encouragement and motivation to me to continue with the story. I know that I'm not the quickest updater, but that's only because number one, I have a hectic schedule and don't get to write as often as I would like to, and number two, because I always want to ensure that I give you guys nothing but the best possible update and figure that time between updates is a fair trade off for getting out a good, quality story. I work **really** hard on The Heights for you guys, and it's nice to know that it's appreciated. The next update is nearly finished, and will be posted soon, so be on the lookout for that. Thanks to all those who are faithful readers and reviewers. Enjoy- Jess_

**Chapter Forty Five: Homeward Bound**

The taxicab pulled up to the side of the curb and came to a stop. Reaching into her purse, Ellie paid the driver, then waited for him to take her suitcases out of the trunk and place them down beside her on the sidewalk. The car drove away, and she was left by herself to look up at the apartment building.

She had decided to come there the day after Cat had left the Linton mansion. The decision had come after a long, sleepless night in which she'd tossed and turned and gone back and forth with herself as to why she should or shouldn't decide to accompany Cat and Heath back home to The Heights. At first Ellie had tried to tell herself that it was none of her business- that the Ernshawls weren't and never had even been her blood family and because of that, she had no obligation to go when one of them was in trouble. She told herself that going would mean she would have to be in the same company as Heath, and have to continue to keep the secret of his being responsible for Francie's death away from Cat. Going would mean having to watch the inevitable reconciliation that she knew would occur between Heath and Cat- something she had no wish to be a witness to. All of these reasons were nearly enough to make her decide to stay.

But then she had thought about other things. She'd thought about Henry, and instead of feeling disgust, found herself feeling sympathy for the situation he was in. She thought about Will Ernshawl and the feelings that even to that day, she continued to have for him. Those feelings were enough to stir up a sense of obligation to him to return to the place that he had called home. But even that sense of obligation was nothing in comparison to the obligation that she felt to the little boy that was his grandson.

Ellie truly believed that it was her concern for Harry that made her decide to return to the Heights with Cat and Heath- even more than her concern for Cat, which was becoming increasingly limited in and of itself. Cat was making a mistake. Ellie was sorry for that, but she refused to ignore the fact that Cat was a grown woman who had control over her own life. Not only that, Cat was willing to make mistakes that came at the unfair expense and pain of other people.

Harry was different. He was still only a child, and none of what was happening to him was his fault. Ellie didn't want to leave him alone with Heath, who despite his taking care of him, she was sure didn't really care about the boy. She wasn't even entirely comfortable with the idea of leaving him in Cat's care- not because she believed that Cat didn't care about Harry, but because she knew that ultimately, Cat was a selfish person. If doing what was best for Harry was to leave Heath, Ellie knew that Cat would do the direct opposite. There was no point in trying to deny it- she just didn't trust Cat as much as she used to anymore. She couldn't trust her enough to take care of Harry-she would have to do it herself.

When Ellie had made the decision to leave, she'd gotten the address from Isabella, and although Isabella had refused to talk about why and how she knew where Heath lived, Ellie wasn't a fool. She had been able to sense the truth behind of the situation. She felt sorry for Isabella, and said as much, but all Isabella had said in reply to that was that she didn't need or want anyone's sympathy.

When she'd told Edgar, he had initially attempted to change her mind, and tried to warn her that he didn't think that she was well enough to be getting out of bed and traveling so far away. When he had seen how determined she was however, he stopped trying to persuade her and simply said that he hoped that she knew what she was doing. Ellie had hesitated before leaving,

"I'm sorry, Edgar," she'd said. The apology wasn't for her own leaving- Ellie knew that Edgar was well aware of that, "I'm so sorry."

Edgar had shaken his head, "It isn't your fault, Ellie. Don't be sorry."

"I still know that she still cares for you. She does."

He had been silent for a long moment before whispering, "But not enough…not enough."

Ellie had packed a single suitcase and left the mansion early the next morning. She wasn't sure when she would be coming back- she wasn't even sure if she would be coming back at all…

Ellie climbed the stairs of the building to the top floor, looking at the slip of paper in her hand to verify which door belonged to Heath. She came to the correct one, knocked on it three times, and waited for a reply.

The door opened. As she had half expected, Heath stood in the doorway. The two of them looked at one another for a long time.

Heath did look surprised to see her there, but not so much so that he seemed caught off his guarded demeanor. She noticed that he only kept the door open just wide enough to fit his own physique.

"Well." He said, his tone cool and yet defensive at the same time, "You're about the last person I'd expect to see outside my door at seven in the morning."

She looked back at him coldly, "You look upset, Heath" she said, "Are you surprised to see me…or just disappointed?"

His mouth gave a small tilt upwards in his tight, sneering smile. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, "What are you doing here, Ellie?" he asked her. "What do you want?"

"I want to see Cat. And Harry."

"They're both sleeping."

Ellie wasn't deterred by the answer. She knew what he trying to do. Now that Cat had left Edgar and come back to him, she knew that Heath would do whatever was necessary to keep her away from anything that could jeopardize that. And in his eyes, Ellie was one of those things.

"I don't mind waiting." She met his gaze evenly, hoping that her eyes conveyed the real message she wanted to send to him.

It was then that Heath seemed to notice the suitcase that was in her hand. He stared at it, then her. His eyes narrowed.

"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly.

"I'm going back home with Cat." she replied. "I thought that I should help her get Henry back on his feet and sort out the mess with the Heights."

"She doesn't need your help."

"Really? She told you that herself?" Ellie's voice sharpened challengingly. She saw the way his jaw tightened, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to allow him to intimidate her away.

He flashed his white teeth in a brief, snorting laugh, "What's this really about, Ellie? Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"I don't give a damn about you, or your skin, Heath." She retorted, "I'm here for Cat and Harry."

"They're here with me; they don't_ need_ your help." He repeated, and that time, it was his voice that sharpened.

"What are you trying to do, Heath?" she asked, "Shut me out of Harry and Cat's life? Keep me away from them both? You really think you can get away with that?"

He raised an eyebrow and began to answer, but before he could, Ellie heard a familiar voice from inside call out her name,

Cat appeared in the doorway beside Heath within a few moments. She was still fully dressed, but still looked as though she had just woken up. She stared at Ellie in surprise,

"I thought I heard your voice," she said, "What are you doing here?"

"I decided to go with you." Ellie replied. "To go back home and help with Henry and Harry."

"You'd really do that?" Cat asked, sounding even more surprised

"Of course I would, Cat. I care about them…I care about you. Don't you know that?"

Cat looked uncertain, "I thought you'd be too angry with me to want to help."

At that, Heath broke into the conversation, his voice sounding completely calm and unlike the sharp tone he'd used with Ellie only moments ago, "I told her that she didn't have to go through all of that trouble so soon after getting out of the hospital. You and I will have everything under control, won't we?"

Before Cat could say anything, Ellie interjected, "It's no trouble. It isn't- especially not for Harry. I want to help."

"As long as you're sure you're still not too weak…" Cat let her voice trail off hesitantly, but Ellie shook her head,

"I'm fine, Cat. Really, I'm fine."

Cat sighed in relief, coming forward and wrapping her arms around Ellie in an embrace, "Thank you." She whispered into her ear, "I'm so glad you're here."

Ellie's eyes met with Heath's from over Cat's shoulder. They stared at one another chillingly, no love lost between them.

"So am I." she answered, "So am I."

When Cat pulled away, she asked her, "You want to see Harry?"

Ellie nodded, giving a small smile, "You already know the answer to that question."

"C'mon." Cat turned and went back into the apartment. Ellie started to follow her, but was stopped when Heath suddenly stepped in between her and the entrance.

Not a word came out of his mouth, but he let his gaze hold with hers for a long moment, and the gaze alone spoke volumes.

He was warning her with that look. Warning her not to try anything, do anything that would cause Cat to go back to Edgar.

_Don't even try it,_ his eyes were saying to her, _Don't you fucking dare…_

Ellie looked back at him defiantly, standing her ground. Instead of stepping aside to let her pass, he moved out of the doorway to the apartment and walked down the hall towards the stairs without another word, clearing Ellie's way inside.

She looked after him for a few moments, then heard Cat call out to her and went inside, closing the door behind her.

As she approached the bed in the corner of the room, Cat asked, "Where's Heath?"

"I don't know. He just left."

Cat didn't seem worried, "He's probably just going to get some more things ready for the trip. He'll be back soon."

Ellie sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, "Oh my God…" she breathed as she looked down at Harry, "Cat, he looks so sick!"

"I know. I know he looks bad. But he's safe now, and Heath says that he's going to be fine."

Ellie grimaced at the mention of his name, "'Heath said'?" she repeated tightly.

"Yeah."

"How would he know?"

"He's the one who found Harry, Ellie. Harry trusts him._ I_ trust him."

A long silence passed between them before Ellie chose to speak,

"Cat." She didn't say more, but she didn't need to. The look that came over Cat's face indicated that she already knew what the unspoken words would have been had Ellie went on.

"What is it?" she asked, the edge already entering her voice.

"Please don't do this. You're making a big-"

"Don't." Cat swiftly cut her off, "Just don't do that, Ellie. Edgar and I are separated. We're separated, and we're going to get a divorce. That's it. I'm going back home with Heath to sort out Henry's mess."

"And then what?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What happens when Henry's mess is sorted out? Are you going to just leave him and Harry there? Are you going back to New York? What are you going to do, Cat?"

Cat didn't answer at first, looking away to avoid Ellie's gaze. "I'm going to start living for me again," she replied quietly, "I'm going to be happy. Is that so terrible, Ellie? To just want to go back to the life that will make you happy?"

Ellie looked at her grimly, "Just as long as you're sure that that life _still can_ make you happy. Just as long as you're sure of that, Cat."

Cat felt the smallest tug on the inside of her at Ellie's words, starting to feel the smallest beginnings of the fearful paranoia she had felt just before she walked out the door of the Linton mansion after leaving Edgar. She couldn't understand why she was able to still feel that way, She couldn't understand why, when ever since she'd found out Heath was alive, she'd fantasized about doing it hundreds of times. What was so different about fantasizing about doing something you wanted to do and actually getting up the courage to do it? Why did there seem to be such a chasm between the two?

Even then, she couldn't get the last words that Edgar had said to her out of her mind: _D__on't ever expect me to let you come back…_

Why did thinking of those words make the uneasiness creep up her spine and tense up her entire body? Why, when she was supposed to be so relieved and certain that she had finally done the right thing? Why couldn't she just allow herself to really relax?

She was pulled away from her inner thoughts at the sound of the door to the apartment opening. Cat looked up as Heath walked over towards them, and their eyes met.

Every doubt and fear she had felt moments before melted away as Heath's lips gently curled up into a faint smile. There. She felt alright again. She felt confident that she had made the right decision. Everything was going to be alright. Just as long as she still had him to hang onto, things were going to turn out just fine.

"Are we ready?" he asked. Ellie turned back to Harry without answering, but everyone in the room was well aware that it hadn't been her that he was addressing in the first place.

Cat nodded, giving a small smile of her own, "Yeah," she murmured "I think we're finally ready now."

* * *

The hospital was the very first place that the four of them stopped at upon arriving in Cat's hometown. Heath had given her the option of either going to see the house first or Henry, and in spite of her initial reaction (and after some persuading from Ellie), she had chosen her brother.

Cat wasn't sure of what she would see when she entered the hospital room. Heath had asked the attending physician to come and speak to her about Henry's condition, but in all honesty Cat wasn't sure if she even wanted to hear of how bad off he was. Hearing it could have only went to further her frustration at what he and his alcohol addiction had done to destroy everything her father had built and place Harry in danger. In addition, since she had left Edgar, Cat had begun to remember the cruelty that her brother had shown Heath in keeping the two of them apart. She'd started thinking of what may have happened if he hadn't been so heartless, how different things might have been. As she did, the old feelings of hateful resentment towards Henry that she'd tried to bury during her five years of marriage to Edgar began to slowly creep back into her mind.

"Your brother's pancreatitis is at a severely chronic stage," the doctor told her, "When he first arrived here, there was a very dangerous amount of alcohol in his system, and his long-term abuse of it had caused permanent damage to several sections of the pancreas, forcing us to perform a surgical resection to partially remove the most damaged and unsalvageable parts."

"What does that mean now?" she asked.

"Well, in the first place, the surgery went largely without complication. Its main purpose was to relieve excruciating pain, as well as to give him some chance at leading a semblance of a normal life in the future."

Cat frowned, "What do you mean a 'semblance' of a normal life? Isn't he going to be alright?"

The doctor's expression softened sympathetically, "Unfortunately, even with the surgery we performed, your brother's alcohol abuse left permanent damage done to his pancreas that is going to leave some irreversible side effects.

"What kind of side effects?"

"He's hooked up to a feeding tube currently so that we can give him to necessary nutrients his body is in currently in desperate need of. While many patients are able to eventually be taken off the feeding tube, others….are not so fortunate. And in my experience, a patient with such a severe case of pancreatitis as your brother's usually isn't ever able to go back to normal eating habits. And they are usually forced to endure a certain amount of pain that never really goes away."

Cat stared back at him, stunned. "So you're telling me that Henry's going to be hooked up to a feeding tube and in pain for the rest of his life?"

The doctor nodded, "There is a strong possibility of that, yes."

She stared down at the floor blindly, trying her best to process the news. All of a sudden her throat felt tight and constricted, the way it did when she wanted to cry. It was just that all of her life, she'd had a set image of Henry in her mind- a set image of what he'd always be. He was her stubborn, obstinate, muscular brother with combat boots and an unshaven face. That was always what Cat had thought Henry would somehow be. Nothing had changed that, not even the war and Francie dying,

And now…now it seemed as though all of that was changing. Cat didn't know if she was even ready for it. And if she really wasn't, she didn't have a clue of what to do about it now that it had actually happened. She felt helpless about the situation.

"I'm sorry." The doctor said to her at seeing the look on her face, "I know that this very difficult to hear."

"So...what happens now?" She asked dully,

"We're going to need to keep your brother here for another week or so for observation," he answered, "After that, if he's made acceptable progress, he'll be able to go home. If he still needs the feeding tube, one of the nurses will instruct you and anyone else who will be caring for Mr. Ernshawl as to how to properly operate it. We'll of course be giving him a prescription to manage the pain…and after that, all that's left to do is wait. Wait to see if he makes a decent recovery."

"Do you think that he will? Based on what you've seen from other people and what you've seen of him…do you think he'll ever be the same again?"

The doctor sighed, pausing for a long moment, "He will never be the same again, no," he finally admitted, "But that doesn't mean that he can't get better. So long as he's given the proper care, rest and support, he _can_ get better.

Cat nodded, grateful that he's given her an honest answer. "I guess I'll go and see him now." She murmured. "Thanks for everything that you've done for him."

She walked away back towards Henry's hospital room, where Heath, Ellie and Harry were waiting just outside of it.

Harry sat in Ellie's lap, fiddling with a piece of curling hair at his temple. On the trip there, he'd strangely developed a silent trust and connection her that he hadn't displayed with Cat. Cat wasn't offended by it. She knew that his trust of Ellie was probably due to Ellie having taken care of Harry and his father before the stroke had sent her to New York to live with Cat. In any case, she was glad that Ellie had come along to help take care of him.

When Heath saw her approaching, he straightened up from his position against the wall and came towards her, "Are you alright?" he asked her.

Cat nodded, "Yeah. I'll be fine. I think I'm going to go in to see him now."

"I'll go with you." He immediately said.

"You don't need to-"

"It's fine." He stated, this time more firmly, "It's fine, I don't mind."

"Me too, Cat," Ellie began, but Cat shook her head,

"No Ellie, please just stay out here with Harry- I don't want him to have to see Henry like this."

Ellie nodded in understanding, "Alright. We'll be waiting out here then."

Cat knocked on the door gently, but there was no answer, so she opened the door and went inside, Heath following behind her.

Henry was lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed. The wall light over the bed gave her a view of his face, even with the ceiling light of the room turned off.

Cat stayed frozen where she was at the foot of the bed. She was in near disbelief as she took in the features of the frail figure that at that moment could have passed as a stranger to her.

The first thing she noticed was how much weight he had lost. Henry's body was so emaciated that it barely seemed to make a rise in the blankets. The skin on his face was drawn so tight that the bones in his cheeks protruded garishly and his eyes were sunken deep down into his head. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow. His skin was sallow and craggy. There was a yellow feeding tube inserted into his left nostril.

He already looked as though he were half-dead.

As if he could sense her presence, Henry suddenly began to stir in the bed, his eyes cracking open and meeting with hers. For a moment, she thought that she saw relief seem to flood his features. But then, his gaze darted behind her and met with Heath's steady one, and the dark shadow fell across his face again.

Henry turned his face away from her and towards the wall. She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. A long silence filled the room before Cat finally decided to speak,

"How could you do this to yourself, Henry?" she demanded, her voice thick with anger and the shock that she still felt at the sight of him, "I want you to tell me how you could you have ever allowed something like this to happen."

There was no reply.

"Do you know how hard our father worked in that shop? Do you have any idea how much The Heights meant to him?"

Henry still didn't answer, but she noticed that his breathing was becoming harder as he pressed his lips tightly together. Cat clenched her jaw in frustration, trying to think of something that would force him to answer her.

"Your son was digging through the dumpsters for food." She said coldly, "Did you know that? Harry was starving to death while you were passed out on the floor in a puddle of your own spit."

She looked down and saw that Henry was clenching his fists together so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Although his face was mostly turned away from her, she could make out the outline of a pair of tears streaming down his cheek.

"I hope you're here for a long time, Henry." She said, "I hope you're here long enough for you to sit here and think. You think long and hard about everything that you've done, all the people you've hurt, and all the pain you've caused. You think about it…because you deserve everything you're getting, do you understand me? You deserve all of this and more."

By the time she finished speaking, Henry wasn't trying to conceal his crying anymore. Although his face was still turned away from her and towards the wall, the tears flowed freely down his face as his mouth was cracked open to allow the soft, broken cries to escape his throat.

Cat didn't want to see any more. She turned away from Henry and went towards the door. Heath followed her outside.

She walked past Ellie and Harry down the hallway at a brisk pace. She ignored Ellie's calls after her, only walking faster.

She had to get out of that hospital. She had to get away from Henry and from all the hurt, anger and frustration that seeing him had suddenly struck her with.

Cat could hear footsteps behind her, but didn't look back, already knowing who they belonged to.

"Cat. Cat, wait." Heath caught up with her and gently took a hold of her arm and stood in front of her to block her way, "Come on." He said, ""Don't just run off like this."

"I can't go back in there right now, Heath." Cat shook her head, running her fingers through her hair in exasperation, "I can't."

"Alright, then don't. Just calm down. Try and relax."

"Relax? Did you see him? Did you see what he's done to himself?"

"Cat, I told you that he was pretty bad off. What did you expect?"

"I don't know! I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't anything like this! What the hell am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to let Harry see him like that?"

"Don't let Harry see him then. We won't bring him to the hospital."

Cat sighed, "Heath, he's Henry's son-"

"Yeah and he nearly let him die," he said, cutting her off, "Don't you think it's a little late for him to be getting a paternal instinct? Besides, Harry doesn't miss him. He doesn't even want to see him."

"But what happens when he leaves the hospital? The doctor said Henry could be on that feeding tube for the rest of his life-"

"Don't think about any of that now. It'll all be taken care of."

"How do you know that?"

Heath paused for a moment, then gave a light shrug of his shoulder, "I guess you'll just have to trust me about it." He reached out and touched her arm, "Come on. You ready to get out of here?"

She nodded, "I need to see the house and The Heights."

"Alright. But don't get too upset- they've both taken a beating and are gonna need a lot of work."

"After seeing that in there," she gestured back towards Henry's hospital room, "I don't think there's much more that could get me more upset."

The two of them walked back towards where Ellie and Harry were seated, "C'mon," Cat said to Ellie, "We're going home now."

Ellie frowned, "What? But what about Henry? How is he? What did the doctor say?"

"He's hooked up to a feeding tube. They're not sure how long it'll have to be in there…or if it'll ever come out at all."

"Oh God…" Ellie murmured, "It's as bad as all that?"

Cat nodded grimly, "Yeah. They're going to keep him here for a few days for observation."

"And what about Henry? How's he doing?"

"I wouldn't know. He wouldn't speak to me."

She frowned again, "What do you mean? He didn't say anything?"

"Not one word."

Ellie was quiet for a few moments, and Cat could tell she was deep in thought. Finally, she asked, "So what do we do now?"

"We're going home to look at the house and The Heights and see what damage Henry's done to them. Then we're going to plan what to do to fix it all."

"And what about Henry?"

Cat's voice sharpened, "What about him?"

"You're going to just leave after we just got here? What are we going to do fix him?"

"Ellie, I'm not very interested in focusing on fixing Henry right now. I have more important things to worry about."

Ellie stared at her incredulously, "'More important things?' Cat, Henry is your_ brother_! He's your brother and he could have died!"

"Yeah and he's also an adult!" she retorted, "He's an adult, and I'm tired of having to baby him just because he's too irresponsible to look after himself!"

"Cat, you can't just leave him here alone!"

"Yes I can. I'm leaving now, Ellie. You can come with us, or you can stay here. It's your choice."

Ellie picked Henry up in her arms, holding him tight as she answered, "I'm staying here with Henry. I still care about him- even if no one else here does."

"You don't need to do that, Ellie," Heath suddenly spoke up, coming forward to them, "You can go back home with Cat. We can go look at the house, then afterward, I'll drop the three of you off at a hotel, and then come back and sit with Henry myself for the night."

Ellie looked at him uncomfortably, "That's not necessary," she said, "I'd really rather just stay here with Henry-"

"Cat and I don't think it's a good idea for Harry to see Henry like this," Heath interrupted, "It could upset him. Besides, he's seen enough of Henry at his worst, don't you think?"

Ellie seemed to consider what he said, but still looked unconvinced, "Just because Henry made mistakes doesn't mean that we have to cut him out of Harry's life forever."

"No one's trying to do that, Ellie." He replied, "It's just until he gets better." When she still didn't answer, she saw the muscles in his jaw slightly tighten, and his voice sharpened as he pressed, "Why don't you just let me handle it?"

Ellie looked at him suspiciously then. She seemed to want to say more, but at that, Cat broke in, "C'mon Ellie, you heard him. Heath's going to come back and stay with Henry for the night- let's go home to see the house before it gets dark."

Ellie looked back and forth between Cat and Heath for a few moments, then shifted Harry to the other side of her hip, "I think I'll just take him back to the hotel now." She mumbled, and began walking down the hallway towards the elevator.

Cat looked after, frowning in concern, "Maybe she should just stay here with Henry," she murmured faintly, "If only to-"

"He'll be fine." Heath broke in firmly, "Ellie's just trying to fix everything the same way she tried to when we were kids. She just doesn't understand that Henry can't be fixed that way."

"But what harm could there be in letting her stay with him to-"

Heath shook his head then, abruptly cutting her off, "Alright, Cat. You want to help Ellie keep babying Henry and be there to hold his hand, then that's fine. But if you think doing all of that's going to keep him from stopping at the nearest liquor store as soon as he gets out of here, you're wrong. I'll tell you that right now- you're dead wrong about that."

Cat looked at him soberly, taking in the expression on his face. She knew that the harsher tone of his voice wasn't out of any concern for whether Ellie stayed with Henry or not. It was because in his eyes, she was taking Henry's part against his word. She was choosing someone else over him-again.

"No, you're…you're right," she said, instantly filled with regret, "I'll tell Ellie she should just try and keep her distance from Henry for now. At least until he gets up the nerve to at least talk to us…" she hesitated for a moment before adding, "I'm sorry."

Heath's expression softened a little at that, "It's only for the best, Cat. You'll see that soon. C'mon," he said, "Let's go home."

* * *

Cat stood at the edge of the gravel driveway to her house, her hands in her jacket pockets and her chin tucked into her collar against the chilly breeze.

She looked at the place she had called home for over twenty years of her life, her expression bleak and sad.

The house was in ruins. The white paint on the outside was peeling terribly, revealing wood that was nearly rotting. The porch steps that Heath and her father had installed years ago were crumbling. Autumn leaves that should have been raked up long ago were littered across the porch. Weeds were growing in the plots where Ellie had once groomed flower beds and rose bushes.

The Heights wasn't in much better condition. In addition to the peeling paint on the building, and the weeds that littered its perimeter, multiple glass panes in the garage doors were cracked or broken. Empty beer, whiskey and other liquor bottles were peppered across the entire property- byproducts of Henry's intoxication.

But none of that was the most painful thing for Cat to see. The most painful thing was the 'For Sale' sign that was posted nearby. That sign was an indicator to her that everything that her father had worked for, and everything that she had ever loved and cherished about her home was in danger of being ripped away.

Cat walked over to the sign, swallowing the lump that continually threatened to rise in her throat. She touched it gingerly.

"Would you like to go inside?" Heath asked her. He was a little ways away from where she stood, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

Cat shook her head. She didn't think she could bear to see the damage to the interior of the house- not when just looking at the outside was bad enough for her.

"I've already made arrangements to meet with a real estate developer my lawyer recommended. I asked her to check the place out and give some estimates for renovation and repairs. She can meet with us in the next few days if you're feeling up to it."

Cat just nodded in reply. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again,

"You alright?"

Cat nodded, "Yeah." She paused for a few moments, then shook her head, "No." She turned around to face him, "This was our home. This the place where we grew up…look at what's happened to it."

"It's still home, Cat. Peeling paint doesn't change that."

"Doesn't it?" she asked exasperatedly, "Everything's changed, Heath. I left New York thinking that just coming home would fix everything. That if I could just go back to the way things used to be, then things would be alright. I was so wrong," she shook her head again, "Things are never going to be the way they were."

"Is that really what you believe?"

"How can they be? Mom and Dad are dead. Henry's in the hospital, he's probably never going to come off of that feeding tube. The Heights is shut down, the house is in foreclosure. Ellie's had a stroke. And we-" she broke off then, catching herself. The two of them stared at each other in a thick and heavy silence before Cat managed to lamely finish, "We've changed." She turned back around to look at the house, "No. I don't think there's ever going to be any going back now."

Heath said nothing to that, and she used her fingers to rake through her hair briefly before continuing, "C'mon. I've seen enough."

She began walking back down the gravel driveway and towards the car. As she passed by him, Heath suddenly called her name,

"Cat." She stopped in her tracks, her eyes meeting with his and holding their gaze,

"Some things don't ever change."

She knew what he meant, and none of it had anything to do with the house or The Heights.

It was true. She had never stopped loving him, and nothing had been able to change it- not his running away, not her believing he was dead, nor even her marrying Edgar. She'd loved Heath through all of it, and Cat was certain that that love was something that wasn't ever going to go away or even fade.

And regardless of his running away, the indifference he'd shown her in New York, and even the distance he kept her at present, Cat was positive that Heath's love for her was something that had and always would stay just as constant and unchanging.

There was just something that had from the very beginning had a steadfast permanence for the two of them. From the time they had met, Cat and Heath had always been exactly that: Cat and Heath. The bond they shared seemed as though it was something that had always been, even before they met. Cat hadn't been able to shake the feeling even when they were apart. Even before he'd entered her life, it had seemed as though Heath was a part of her life. It was probably the reason why when she'd thought he was dead she'd felt so bereft and inconsolable. She'd felt as though a part of her own life had died with him.

She looked back at him wistfully, "I hope so….I hope so."


	46. Chapter 46:Reconciliation

_A/N: Hey guys. I told you another update was coming soon. Hope you enjoy it- please let me know in a review if you do. Also, this chapter does contain sexuality. For those not too comfy with that, you're warned. Thanks and peace, to all- Jess _

**Chapter Forty Six: Reconciliation**

Cat and Heath sat in a restaurant near the hotel that they had checked into since arriving in their hometown. Ellie was still there with Harry, and the two of them had come there to meet with the real estate developer that Heath's lawyer had recommended to survey the house and the Heights for repairs and remodeling.

The developer, a Mrs. Grant, sat across from the two of them, the contents of her briefcase set out in front of her on the table. Although she had a kind face, the expression upon it was grave and serious.

"I was able to visit your brother's property earlier this week,," she said to Cat, "I took a look around the grounds and Heath let me into the house and the Heights to see the damage done to the interior of the buildings. After making some phone calls to several contractors and repair services, I was able to pull together several expense reports and plans that you might be interested in following from here," she gestured to the papers and photographs in front of her. "But before we begin with all of that, I wanted to pose a few questions to you: that may help to narrow our options. First of all Mrs. Linton-"

"Ernshawl." Cat suddenly interrupted her, "It's um…it's just Ms. Ernshawl now, actually."

The woman blinked, clearly surprised, "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that you were no longer-"

"Well, we're not…my husband and I aren't _officially _divorced-yet." Cat tried to explain. "We're…we're just separated right now. But I'd…I'd still prefer if…" Her voice trailed off awkwardly, and Mrs. Grant hastily nodded,

"Of course, I understand. Now, then Ms. Ernshawl: were you interested in remodeling and repairing this property with the intent of buying back the property from the bank, then selling it to another interested buyer?"

"No," Cat said emphatically, "No, I'd absolutely want to make any necessary repairs and buy everything back to keep."

"Alright. Now that that's settled we can first look to the matter of purchasing the property back from the bank. Fortunately, the amount shouldn't be that high. In fact, I'd say it shouldn't cost anymore than perhaps two hundred fifty to three hundred thousand dollars."

Cat stared at her, "Three hundred thousand?" she repeated, "Are you…are you sure it should be that much?"

Mrs. Grant looked surprised at that question, "Well in consideration of the house, the auto repair shop, and the surrounding acreage, yes. It sits on a substantial amount of land- and then of course, the close proximity to your husband's real estate developments greatly increases the value. Is that amount too much for you to pay at this time?"

She didn't answer at first. She looked away from the real estate developer and happened to catch Heath's eye. She quickly shifted her gaze down into his lap, awkwardly fiddling with her wedding ring.

It wasn't that Cat didn't have three hundred thousand dollars to spend- she had a little over five hundred thousand in her own personal bank account. But even with having that cushion of money to buy the property back, she couldn't help but feel a measure of anxiety at additional expenses she would have to consider.

She still hadn't found out how much it would cost to perform the necessary repairs and remodeling to the house and the Heights. By her own estimation, she didn't think it would be a small expense.

Heath had said that Henry had run up all kinds of other forms of debts- those would undoubtedly fall into her lap to pay off as well. And since Henry was not only in debt, but ill, he would be unable to help her financially support and take care of Harry.

Then there was the matter of her impending divorce from Edgar. She'd have to hire her own lawyer, and if she intended on getting a good one, there was no telling how much that would be costing her. Because they'd only been married for a little over five years, it was unlikely that she'd be able to get alimony payments. Then, she didn't know how much money and possessions he'd be willing to give up to her in the agreement- especially considering the way she had left him. Although Cat couldn't imagine Edgar being overly cruel and stingy, she was able to be honest with herself and admit why he wouldn't agree to be particularly generous with her either.

Although her work as a model had paid her rather well, Cat hadn't worked in a full capacity in months. Heath's return had sent her into a depression that distracted her to the point where she'd simply stopped working. Although her manager had been warning her that the agency that employed her was threatening to buy her out of her contract and fire her, Cat had always paid him little to no mind. Modeling had become unimportant to her since Heath had returned. She'd figured that if one agency dropped her, she'd simply and hastily be picked up by another competitor And even if she hadn't, she'd still been married to Edgar, who's own wealth gave her enough of a financial security that she wouldn't have had to go back to modeling anyway.

That financial security was now gone from her, however. And for the first time, Cat began to feel a sinking kind of realization of it.

But in spite of all of these considerations, Cat still shook her head at the question, "No. No, that should be fine."

Mrs. Grant didn't look completely convinced at her answer, but she nodded anyway and continued, "Good. Unfortunately, the matter of repairs and remodeling to the property may prove to be slightly more complicated." She began rifling through the papers and photographs in front of her on the table, "First of all, the plumbing system of the house is very old. The current piping makes the system severely outdated in comparison to more modern plumbing systems. It's also in a state of serious disrepair. Coupled with the system's age, and the remote location that your house is in, necessary repairs and updating to the plumbing could well run into the range of around $15,000 to $20,000. Then there's the matter of the heating and cooling system. Both have suffered some serious damage and since they haven't been replaced in over twenty years, I would absolutely recommend a complete replacement of both. Current estimates from a list of contractors I've drawn up are placing this in a price range of around $8,000 to $10,000. After all of that had been done, we then should look to the problem of remodeling the house itself. For starters, I'd recommend a basic job of remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms. I would also recommend some adjustments and improvements to the bedrooms as well. Some new window installations will be necessary, as a few are either cracked or broken. And-" she paused then, seeing the increasingly anxious expression on Cat's face, "Ms. Ernshawl? Is there a problem?"

Cat raked her fingers through her hair, "I'm sorry," she murmured, "I just…I didn't know…I didn't expect that this would be so ex_pen_sive…" her voice trailed off and she looked down into her lap, continuing to fidget uncomfortably.

Mrs. Grant looked at her sympathetically, then let her gaze meet with Heath's for a few moments. "Ms. Ernshawl," she began cautiously, "I'm beginning to get the feeling that perhaps the business of buying back and remodeling your home will be too expensive to take on. Would you like my honest opinion of what I would do in your situation?"

Cat nodded, and she continued, "I would simply choose to forfeit the house, the repair shop, as well as the surrounding property. I've only covered a fraction of the expenses that you'd have to put into this project, and they already seem very overwhelming to you. If you're insistent upon buying the property back from the bank, then that's fine. You can buy the property back, then sell it to any potentially interested buyers."

"What if there are no potentially interested buyers?" Cat asked.

"There are. In fact," Mrs. Grant paused, clearing her throat, "Your…husband's real estate corporation has already put forth a very generous bid for the house and grounds- a bit too generous some would say. However, taking up this offer would certainly make up for any expenses you put forth in buying the property back from the bank."

"But it would mean giving it up- giving up the house, the Heights, the land- everything."

"Well… yes, I suppose that that's true. I realize that this is a very difficult decision to make for you. Please realize that I would not be making these recommendations if it weren't the most financially practical choice to make at this point."

Cat said nothing to that, seeming to have retreated into her own thoughts. Upon seeing that she didn't intend to reply, Heath spoke up instead,

"Thanks for the advice, Mrs. Grant. Would it be alright to give an answer within the next couple of days?"

"Of course. You have my office as well as cell phone number. Feel free to call me anytime, and I'll be sure to make the necessary arrangements."

Cat was silent on the drive back to the hotel. She sat in the passenger seat looking out the window bleakly, keeping her head turned away from Heath. Neither of them spoke for a while.

"You can't afford to get it back, can you?" he finally asked when they'd stopped at a red light. The question sounded more as though he was stating a fact. He looked over at her, "Can you, Cat?"

Cat shut her eyes, murmuring a soft, "No."

"Is it the price the bank wants, or is the repairs that you can't swing?"

"It's everything. The price of the property, the repairs, Henry's bills, Harry, the divorce, a place for us to live- everything Heath!" She shook her head, "I don't know what I was thinking…I don't know how it could have never occurred to me how much money I was going to need for all of this."

"It'll all work out."

She gave a mirthless, empty laugh, "I haven't worked in over five months, Heath. I only have five hundred thousand dollars saved in the bank I need at least three hundred thousand just to buy the property back from the bank and who knows how much else to pay for the repairs and remodeling that it needs. I have to pay off Henry's debts, settle my divorce from Edgar, and find a way to take care of-"

"Look at me, Cat."

The sudden change in the tone of his voice didn't allow her to even hesitate.

Heath reached out and pushed back a piece of loose hair behind her ear that had escaped from her headband, "It's all going to work out. You understand?"

"How do you know that?" she asked him, "How, when things are so-"

"I know." Was all he answered, then he turned back to the green light and the road. Cat looked back out the window, recognizing the area they were driving through. "Turn left here," she said softly, pointing at an approaching corner.

"It looks like rain, Cat. We should probably be getting back."

She turned to look at him, murmuring a quiet, "Please."

Heath glanced over at her, then in the direction that she was pointing. He seemed to realize where she was intending on going to, then nodded once and without a single word, turned the corner down the dirt road.

The cemetery was one of the only remaining places from Cat's childhood that still remained in the town and had been left untouched by the redevelopments. It adjoined the enormous forest that sat at the edge of her family's old property, and had been one of the old places that she had Heath had used to roam through when they were young.

Heath parked the car at the edge of the field of graves and headstones. "Do you want me to wait here?" he asked her. Cat shook her head,

"I don't mind if you come." Truthfully, Cat welcomed his company- she wasn't sure if she could go on her own. Visiting this place had never been something that had been easy for her to do, and the present circumstances made this particular visit all the more difficult to make.

The two of them walked side by side towards the familiar row of headstones towards the edge of the field that belonged to Tina and Will Ernshawl, along with their dead children.

Cat could feel the egg rising in her throat even as they approached the graves. She came to her father's and slowly lowered herself down to the ground to kneel before the headstone. She stared at the inscription, the words making her revisit the painful memories of her father's death.

As she sat there thinking about her father, Cat found herself filled with so much shame. Nothing that he had planned or wanted had happened for their family since his death. It was like everything had gone wrong. It would have been easy to rationalize to herself that Henry had been the cause of it all, but Cat was willing to be honest with herself and admit that that wasn't true. Things had gone wrong because of her too, because of her own selfishness and immaturity.

After all, hadn't she done everything with her life that her father had stood against? She'd turned her back on him and his way of life. She'd willingly betrayed the person he had raised her to be.

And now, she was going to lose the last symbol of him she had left in her life.

Cat tried to swallow the egg in her throat, even as she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She reached out and touched the headstone gently, "I'm sorry Daddy…" she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

The tears spilled over then, and with them came the soft sobs that burst forth from her lips, wracking her body. Cat knelt there and wept unabashedly, uncaring of Heath's witnessing of her grief, or of the rumbling thunder that became increasingly louder.

Heath stood a few steps away. For a few moments, he watched her with that inscrutable expression of his, but said nothing. Then, he stepped forward and reached out his hand toward her. It hovered above her shoulder for a few moments, as if he were deciding whether or not to actually touch it. Finally, his fingertips only lightly grazed some of her hair.

Cat stiffened at his touch, her cries beginning to subside. "You think that I'm getting what I deserve, don't you?" she asked stonily, "You think I had this coming to me."

"What difference does it make what I think?" Heath asked.

"Because you were right. You told me once that this land, the Heights was the only world I ever needed to know- and you were right. I didn't need to go anywhere else. I didn't need to become anyone else. I had everything I needed here- I just didn't see it."

"Do you see that now?"

She nodded, "Yes. But it doesn't matter- it's too late for that now. It's too late for everything- the house, the Heights, Henry, Harry…" she ducked her head down as another wave of tears welled in her eyes, "Us." She whispered.

Heath crouched down beside her. He tilted her chin and turned her face so that she had to look at him,, "Weren't you listening?" he said quietly, "Some things don't ever change…ever."

Cat felt her heartbeat begin to quicken at the look in his eyes. "What things?" she asked him, her voice nearly catching.

Heath paused, looking as though he was about to answer. Suddenly though, an especially loud clap of thunder hit the sky. It was accompanied by a flash of lightning, and a few moments later, rain began to fall from the sky. It came down in drops at first, then quickly began to pour down upon them.

Heath looked up at the sky, then back towards the forest nearby the cemetery. He straightened fully, reaching his hand out to her, "C'mon." he called to her, "It's too heavy to drive through. We've got to wait it out."

"In the car?" Cat called back to him, but Heath shook his head,

"No."

"Then where?"

"C'mon." Was all he said. There was something in the way that he said it the second time that caught Cat's attention. There was a new look in Heath's eyes as he reached his hand out to her. It was a look that she hadn't seen since the last night he had painted her portrait in his apartment.

Without a word, let him help her up, and followed him across the cemetery and into the forest. They'd only gone a little ways when she realized where he was taking them,

Just a few treks away were their secret cave and lake where they had spent countless days and nights as teenagers. Even when she'd come to visit Henry during the summers to give him money, Cat hadn't even thought to come there. It had been years since she'd even stepped foot in the woods.

In spite of the rain, Cat let her eyes wander everywhere with every step they took. Every spot that they passed seemed to bring back a memory from her girlhood of some time spent with Heath.

One place just beneath a giant oak tree a little ways off the path they walked on reminded Cat of the time she had sprained her wrist from trying to climb up the tree too high and slipping and falling. The sprain had hurt like hell, but a mere hour after getting the splint on her wrist, Cat was out in the woods stubbornly trying to climb the tree again. She'd attempted to climb so high as part of a dare from Heath that she couldn't reach a higher branch than he had, and she hadn't had any intention of backing down from the challenge.

They came to the familiar patch of brambles and ivy, and Heath went first to part the bush that covered the hole leading down into the secret cave. Cat jumped down inside after him and looked around. Her face softened as she recalled even more memories. It had just been so long since she had been in that place. So long- and yet, it almost looked as though nothing had changed…

"You cold?" Heath asked her.

"A little."

"Help me get some wood together and I'll light a fire." The two of them walked about the cave for a few minutes, gathering pieces of wood and bringing them to a small pile near the center of the cave.

Heath took a box of matches from out of his pocket and within a few moments, had started a fire on the wood. Cat drew as near to it as she could without being burned, extending her hands to feel its warmth. They sat there in silence for a little while, letting the sounds of the crackling fire and the raging storm outside fill the cave.

Cat had been staring intently into the fire. She lifted her gaze up, and saw that Heath was staring intently at her.

"What are you looking at?" she murmured, taken by the way they glow of the fire illuminated the green in his eyes.

"I wasn't going to come back at first." He said quietly, "I wasn't going to let you see me again. I wanted to have a new life without you, and never have to let you hurt me again. When I first left the Heights, I was so sure that that was what I wanted to do."

She winced at the words, "What made you change your mind?"

"I decided that I had to come back to have my revenge on Henry- that I couldn't just let him get away with what he'd done to me." Heath looked back into the fire, his angular face was cool and composed. "I decided to kill him."

She stared at him, "You were really going to do that?"

"Yes. I didn't care what happened to me for it- if I went to prison, or if I just ended up killing myself afterward. I didn't give a damn about my life. I was going to kill him. But on the day I was going to do it…I didn't."

"Why not?"

He paused, looking back at her, "I couldn't make myself do it…until I saw you one last time. I didn't understand why. I'd gone without a single look at you for over a year…but for some reason, I knew I'd never be able to kill Henry until I had one last glimpse of your face." So I went to New York. I waited outside of your house. It was snowing and bitter cold, but I waited there for hours. You finally came out- and I saw you with Him…" He searched her face with his eyes, seeming to go over her every feature. He shook his head, clenching his jaw tightly. "I didn't know if I wanted to kill Henry more or you in that moment."

Cat was stunned by the viciousness of his words, "How could you say that?"

"You were with Him. You were smiling. You'd dressed yourself up and made your face up like some kind of a whore. You were going on with your life like you'd never known me. Do you have any idea," he spoke the words slowly, through clenched teeth, "Do you have any _fucking_ idea how that made me feel?"

"Heath, listen, I was-"

"No." he cut her off, his voice cutting through the air like a knife, "Shut up. You shut up and _you_ listen. I was going to kill your brother. I was going to kill him and kill myself. But I couldn't even get my own revenge- what I'd deserved for years…what was mine…I couldn't even do that for myself until I saw your face. I wanted to have one last memory of your face- and I saw you laughing and smiling with Him. I wanted one last fucking picture of your face to die with, and that was all you left for me, Cat!"

Cat was burning with the shame and guilt his words made her feel, "How was I supposed to know that you were there?" she demanded shakily, "How was I supposed to know that you were alive? You were gone! _You were gone!_ This isn't all my fault, you're not the only one who was hurt. You left me too! Do you think I would have ever married Edgar if you hadn't have left?"

"Do you know how much easier this would have been if you had just waited for me?"

Cat sucked in a sharp breath, and shot up to her feet, taking a few steps away from the fire and turning her back on him. "God, Heath, why do you keep bringing that up?" she asked, "What does it matter now?"

Heath was right on her heels, "It's everything," he answered swiftly, "It's everything that matters. Why didn't you wait?"

"Because I waited for you for months! Because you told me that morning on the phone that you wouldn't come back! Because I thought you were dead!"

"No, you didn't. You didn't believe that, I know you didn't. You let all of them think that was what you believed, but you didn't believe that, Cat. Admit it," His voice rose sharply, "_Admit it_!"

Cat could feel the tears begin to prick behind her eyes. She raked her fingers through her wet hair and gripped the hanks tight in frustration, "Alright!" she snapped, "I _didn't_ believe it, okay? I knew it was a lie, I knew you were alive! I knew it!"

"Then why didn't you wait for me?" he shouted angrily, "Why, Cat?" He began walking into her now, forcing her to walk backwards away from him.

"I- I don't know."

"_Why_?"

"Be-because I didn't think you were coming back!" The tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away.

"_Why_?" he yelled the question again, obviously not satisfied with her answer,

"Because I thought you wouldn't ever forgive me!" He had backed her up against the nearest wall of the cave. Cat braced her hands against it, leaning back as far as he could like caged animal.

"_Why_?"

"Because I couldn't go on living with the truth that you were never coming back!" she screamed at him through her tears, "Because believing their lies made the pain of losing you hurt less! Because _I died_ the day that you left the Heights! I died and I didn't want to live again until I saw your face!"

Without any warning, Heath suddenly reached out and grabbed a hold of her arms, crushing her up against him as he hungrily smashed his mouth against hers.

Cat was sobbing uncontrollably through the brusque kisses. She began thrashing and wrenching herself back and forth in Heath's arms, managing to break her lips free of his.

"You bastard…son of a _bitch_…" She gasped through her sobs "…hate you…how could you leave me…how _could_ you…"

Heath ignored her, only continuing to plant starving, rough kisses upon her lips, her face, her neck. She brought her hands up to try and slap at his face, and he only ran his mouth over her palms and fingers, gripping them tightly. He seemed like he was possessed; unwilling to stop for anything.

Cat fought against him like a tigress, still sobbing in angry frustration. She balled up her hands into fists, attempting to throw punches at his face. At that, Heath immediately grabbed a hold of her wrists and used her momentum to pin her back against the hard, stone wall of the cave. As he pushed her back, Cat's head bumped against it and she cried out sharply in pain. Suddenly all her energy seemed gone and she fought to catch her breath in ragged gasps. She let her head fall backward again, succumbing to the fresh wave of tears that the pain brought to her.

She wept for a long time, letting the sobs well up in her chest and throat and come out of her throat as loud and as hard as she wanted to, echoing against the walls of the cave. She cried from the pain in her throbbing head. She cried for every day she had ignored or mistreated Heath out of her own stupidity and selfishness. She cried for the day she had watched Heath drive away on the motorcycle into the woods of the Heights. She cried for the days and nights of searching for him- searching, but never finding him. She cried for the day Edgar and Kane had lied to her and told her that Heath was dead. She cried for every day after that day of living without him. And she cried for every lost, stolen or surrendered day, night and moment that she and Heath had never been able to have with one another- whether it was her, his or both of their fault.

At long last she could feel her sobs begin to subside and Cat felt her breathing return to normal. She exhaled deeply and finally opened her eyes.

Heath was looking down at her still, but the look of wild anger had left his green irises. Now, that captivating, magnetic gaze had entered their depths, the one that made her breath catch in her throat, and as Cat kept her eyes on his, she felt the familiar catch come up from her belly into her windpipe.

Her clenched fists relaxed into open, limp palms. The tenseness left her body, being replaced with a feeling of complete vulnerability.

Their faces were so close to one another that the heat from their breath mingled. Heath brought his mouth closer to Cat's, letting his lips hover mere inches over hers. Cat waited to feel his lips kiss her, but they didn't. Instead, Heath only allowed his mouth to graze the side of her face. Then it moved against her cheek, her temple, her ear, then further downward. The soft, stroking contact of his skin to hers was almost intoxicating to Cat, and she allowed her body to relax in mounting desire.

Suddenly she gave a soft gasp of pleasure and felt her body almost go completely limp as she felt Heath's tongue sensuously lick the sensitive part of her neck. He proceeded to sweep his tongue against the rest of her throat languorously.

Cat's knees felt like jelly and she exhaled long and deliciously, "Ohhh…"

A golden warmth had long begun to spread throughout her limbs; it then shot down to the space between her legs, becoming a burning heat that grew hotter and hotter with every minute.

She could feel Heath's hand moving up the side of her waist and to her chest until it closed around the cup of her breast. She moaned as he squeezed it, softly at first, then with increasing force.

His mouth was still pressed against the stalk of her throat. Heath nuzzled his face against it, "You're mine," he muttered into her skin thickly, "You've always been mine…you'll always be mine…"

"Yes…" Cat breathed, "Oh God, yes…" She wanted him so bad, she could taste it. If he didn't take then now, she was going to die, if he didn't-

Almost as if he could sense the thought enter her mind, Heath suddenly brought his mouth up from her throat and began to kiss her with the vehement passion he had moments ago. This time, Cat was there to meet him halfway, a sharp sound emitting from her throat just before their mouths met.

Their lips moved against one another's in an almost frenzied desperation. Cat's lips were bruising against the mercilessness of Heath's and she thought that she could taste her own blood, but she didn't care, only kissing him harder and harder.

Her hands went to his back, tugging on his leather jacket. At the same time, his fingers went down to her coat. In seconds, he'd discarded it and moved onto her linen blouse. He yanked it open in the front and buttons scattered everywhere. Cat was pulling his shirt up his back hurriedly, Heath moved to help her, flinging it over his head and tossing it to the side.

Her hands roamed over the sheer muscle of his body in sensual awe. He felt so solid and powerful, different from the last time she had put her hands on him. Muscles rippled in his shoulders, arms and back. His waist was lean and cut, and Cat could feel the abdominal muscles in his stomach pressing against her belly. She felt utterly defenseless when face to face with the evidence of his physical power.

And she loved it.

Heath ran his mouth and tongue over her exposed body, crushing her body to him as he pressed his hands up and down her vertebrae.

Cat arched her body back, letting her head fall back and her fingers drift into his dampened hair. She freed it from its tail and combed through the silky tresses so that they splayed out upon Heath's shoulders in sleek, black hanks. She moaned passionately when she felt his sharp teeth begin to nip at her skin.

Heath raised his head up from her body and brought his lips to hers again, kissing her brusquely.

His hands went down to the button of her jeans, and he undid them swiftly, pulling them down her legs. Cat waited till he had also slipped her panties off of her to bring her hands to his belt, unbuckling it with anxious haste. He helped her along, still managing to steal a kiss in between the stripping of his waist, until he too was naked.

He lifted her up from the ground and her legs latched around his hips as she clung to him. In one swift, fluid motion, he'd swung her around and lowered both of them down to the ground beside the fire so that he hovered over her.

Cat kissed Heath with the hunger and desire that was threatening to consume from the inside out. Her groin was aching for the feel of him inside of her and she was as soft and wet as morning dew.

It had been so long, so very long since they had last made love. And it had never seemed to be so right, so suited to happen then at that moment.

He entered her as he broke their kiss. Cat arched her body and groaned as he started to thrust himself in and out of her. She dug her fingers into his back, gasps emitting from her throat with every move that he made.

Heath's hands were entangled in her voluminous hair and as he made love to her, he let his mouth hungrily roam across her upper body, kissing and licking her skin. He moaned her name deliriously, over and over again.

Cat's fingers were scratching and grabbing at his skin frantically. She felt as though she literally couldn't release her grip upon him, as though she had to feel the realness of him to convince herself that this wasn't another cruel, merciless dream.

"Say you're mine," he ordered in between his groans and pants, "Say you're mine…"

This time, Cat didn't hesitate to reply, "I'm yours…ohhh God…Heath, I'm yours…" The cave had been chilly to her when they'd first come, but she felt no cold now. She was burning up- he was burning her up from the inside out. The delicious, overwhelming heat was rising up inside of her, threatening to consume her at any moment…

They came together in one large, crescendo of blinding color, emitting cries of relief and intensity. His body quaking, Heath fell against Cat heavily, his ear laid across her breast. His eyes had clamped shut in the moment of release and remained that way for several moments afterward as he struggled to catch his breath.

Cat clung to the strength in his shoulders, feeling too immobile and weak to budge. Her body had broken into shivers and her lips trembled with them.

She could feel him emanating from every pore of her being, and not just because he was still inside of her.

This was something different. So very different.

Heath managed to slowly raise his head up from her chest, looking her in the eyes, "You belong to me," he whispered passionately. There was such a tone of swift, unwavering resolution in his voice that it took Cat's breath away, "You belong to _me_…"

He kissed her roughly, covering her mouth with his. Then he rolled off of her and onto his back, pulling her with him so that she leaned against his chest, his arms still holding her.

For a long time, they were both quiet, not saying anything, or even moving. Then Cat felt Heath's fingers begin to gently stroke up and down the inward curve of her back. The touch was caressing and smooth, so very different from the aggressiveness of their lovemaking only a little while ago.

She felt his heartbeat from beneath her ear, it had slowed down to a steady, strong pulse.

"I love you." She said softly, "I love you more than anything in this world.

Heath was quiet for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her forehead, "_You're_ my world." He murmured into her hair.

"Heath, what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"What happens now?

"We're going back to the way things were," he answered instantly, his voice firm and confident, "The way they were supposed to be when it was only the two of us. We're going to be happy. We're going to be together. And nothing's going to spoil it this time…" his voice became like steel, "Nothing."

Cat was quiet then. A breeze stirred the wind and she shivered instinctively, "Make love to me." She said suddenly.

He glanced down at her, "Again?"

"Yes." She answered swiftly. "Now." She reached up and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him.

He was right. This was their time to be together again. Their time. Perhaps things wouldn't be exactly the way they had been with her having to let the house and the Heights go.

But still…oh still, she had Heath again. And that was everything. That was all that mattered to her. Nothing could spoil it now- not now, when she'd left Edgar, not when both of them had put aside their pride and finally succumbed to the love they had for each other.

Nothing could ruin what they had now. Nothing…


	47. Chapter 47: Opposition

_A/N: The updating continues. Please be a great help and motivation to me by reading and reviewing. I appreciate you all. Thanks a million. Enjoy,_

_-Jess_

**Chapter Forty Seven: Opposition**

Cat was awakened to the feel of lips drifting up and down her neck and nuzzling against the side of her face.

She drowsily allowed her eyes to crack open, giving a faint smile as Heath pressed kisses against her skin.

"Mmm…hey you…" she murmured.

"Good morning, " He said, running his fingers through her hair and pushing it away from her face.

"It's morning?"

"Still pretty early, but yeah. You slept a long time."

"Has the storm stopped?"

"Yeah. It's clear outside. The sun will be coming out soon." He reached down and gently drew her up, "C'mon," he said, "Get dressed. I want to show you something."

Cat stood up and gathered her clothes together and quickly dressed herself. She followed Heath out of the cave and back into the woods. He held her hand in his firmly as they walked, eventually coming out of the woods and climbing up a hill that overlooked the wide, open field behind Cat's house.

They reached the very top, and sat down on a flat, low stone that was positioned right at the edge of the hill's cliff. Cat looked around,

"I thought I knew every part of this forest… but I don't think I remember coming here..." she murmured, almost to herself.

"You didn't," Heath replied, "Most of the path leading up here used to be blocked by thick trees and bushes. You didn't really notice it when we were kids."

"Then how did you know it was here?"

"I first found it when you left for New York. I used to come up here by myself to watch the sun rise and go down. Then I'd watch the moon and the stars…"

They sat in silence for a while, only holding hands tightly as they looked out at the horizon. Soon enough, Cat could see the dawn start to slowly creep up and begin to lighten the sky. The rays from the morning sunshine shone on her face, warming Cat's skin. "It's more beautiful than I remembered."

She looked over at Heath and saw that his facial expression had become tense and he almost looked angry again.

"What is it?" she asked.

"This," he replied, "This was all I that I used to think I wanted." he looked down at her, "When your dad died and Henry kicked me out, then when you went away to New York, I would come out here and watch the sun rise and set, and that was all I used to wish for. For every day to begin and end with you."

Cat touched his cheek with her fingertips so that he was looking down at her. "Isn't that what you still want?"

Heath shook his head, "No," he said quietly, almost sounding sad, "I want more now. So much more…"

"What more do you want?"

Heath looked back out at the horizon, "Everything." He reached out and pulled her towards him, "Come here." He held her against his chest, his face buried in her hair, "We're going to have everything we should have had before, Cat." He said, sounding more determined and confident than moments ago, "We're going to have everything we deserve. Everything that's ours…I promise you that."

Cat turned her head around to look at him and cupped his cheek in her hand, "I already have everything I want right here." she murmured.

When he smiled at her, she felt the former warmth from the night before begin to warm her insides. He leaned down to kiss her, and she responded eagerly, leaning into him and clenching the front of his jacket.

She really didn't feel as though there was anything else that she wanted more than in that moment. Cat almost felt as though the approach of the new dawn was a symbol for the start of a new beginning for the two of them.

She was getting a second chance- she could start all over with Heath…

* * *

It was still early in the day when Cat and Heath got back to the hotel. Instead of parking the car though, Heath drove to the front entrance, "I'll see you later." He said to her.

Cat frowned, "Where are you going?"

"I have a few things to take care of."

"What things?" she asked.

Heath gave a secretive smile, "You'll see." He reached out and smoothed back some of her hair, then kissed her, "I'll be back soon."

Cat stood and watched him drive away for a few moments before turning around and going back into the hotel.

As she approached the room where Ellie and Harry were in, Cat suddenly paused to smooth her hair and readjust her jean jacket so that it covered up her disheveled blouse. She took a deep breath, gathering her composure.

She wasn't going to let anything that Ellie said get to her. She wasn't going to feel condemned or guilty. She hadn't done anything wrong. She had nothing to feel sorry or remorse for.

Cat put the room key in the door and went inside. Ellie was sitting with her back to her on the side of the bed that Harry was sleeping in. Her hand was stroking his forehead soothingly and sweeping back his hair as she gently hummed a soft tune.

Harry was balled up in his usual sleeping position, looking as though he wanted to disappear in the bed. Cat did notice however, that his hand was clasped around Ellie's other hand tightly.

She stayed there by the door, watching them for a few moments. Ellie didn't stop humming or say anything to her at her entrance, though Cat did see her head slightly turn sideways in acknowledgement of her presence.

Finally, Ellie stopped humming and slowly stood up from the bed. She began straightening up various things around the room, still saying nothing.

"How is he?" Cat asked.

"The storm kept him awake most of the night," Ellie answered, her voice brisk and clipped, "He's just now getting to sleep."

"We tried to come back after the meeting with the real estate developer," Cat said, willing her voice to sound flippant and casual, "But the rain was too heavy to see through. We had to…wait it out."

"I figured as much." Ellie said, still busying herself. She began setting out clothes for Harry to change into on the other bed.

"I know I should have called, but it just didn't occur to me until I thought it would be too late at night to call. I didn't want to wake you or Harry up."

"It's alright, Cat."

The silence that hung between the words was deafening and tense.

Cat wished that Heath hadn't left and was there with her. She would have felt more confident and assured. If he was there, she wouldn't have been feeling the brunt of Ellie's silent but powerful judgment.

Cat swept her hands through her hair and sighed exasperatedly, "Jesus Christ, Ellie..." she muttered under her breath, "Why do you always do this? Why do you always want to make me feel like dirt?"

"Whatever you do is your own decision, Cat." Ellie replied, "It's none of my business."

"That's right, it's none of your business," Cat said, jumping on her words, "So why won't you ever stop trying to judge me? Why don't you ever want me to be happy?"

"You're wrong about that one, hon," Ellie said, turning to face her, "Ever since the first day I set foot on your father's property, all I've ever wanted for you and Henry was to be happy."

"But I _am_!" Cat insisted, coming closer to her, "I am happy, now, Ellie! I was unhappy all those years that I was married to Edgar- I was pretending to be someone that I wasn't, pretending to feel things I didn't feel and it was making me miserable. Now I don't have to pretend anymore. I can be myself and it makes me happy. Do you understand?"

Ellie stared at her wistfully, shaking her head, "No, Cat." She said, "I don't." She went back to what she was doing, but Cat only went on,

"It's because of Heath, isn't it? You want me to be happy, but only as long as I'm happy without him…that's what it is, isn't?"

"No, Cat. That's not what it is. This isn't about me wanting you to be happy without Heath- this is about me not believing that you_ can_ be happy _with_ Heath."

"How could you say that?" Cat demanded, "How could you say something like that after all Heath and I have been through? How could you say that when you know how much we love each other?"

"You still don't understand, Cat. After all this time, you still- _still _don't want to see…"

"See _what? _What are you talking about, Ellie?"

Ellie finished folding a pair of Harry's pants and threw it down on the bed, "You think that love is always something good. That just as long as two people love each other and want to be together that everything will work out between them and that things will be perfect. You think that love can never be anything but beautiful and pure. Well you're wrong, Cat. You're dead wrong about that. Sometimes love goes wrong- and when love goes wrong, it becomes ugly. You're right: I have seen all that you and Heath have gone through. I see how much you love each other; but neither one of you has ever been able to see that love for what it really is. It isn't beautiful. It isn't pure. You still don't have any idea how wrong this has gone. All you can see and feel is your love. But look at what love has done to the two of you- look at what it's made you do."

"I don't have to listen to this. I've spent the last five years of my life listening to you, and doing everything that you said I should do. The only thing it made me was unhappy. You want to know what an ugly love was, Ellie? It was what I had with Edgar. It was wrong, and it was ugly because I was living a lie by being with him when both of us knew that I was still in love with Heath. I'm not throwing away my chance for happiness, Ellie. Not again- not for you or anyone else."

Ellie turned to her then, taking a hold of her shoulders and looking her square in the eye, "Cat. I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen good. Heath has changed. He can't make you happy anymore. He doesn't even know how to be happy with himself. The only thing that he knows now is bitterness and revenge. That's all he cares about, that's all he's going to want. He may still love you- but that love is going to be swallowed up by his love for bitterness and revenge. There's something that you don't know about him- something that he's done that I should have told you about a long time ago-"

But before she could continue, something inside of Cat suddenly snapped. She wrenched herself free from Ellie's grip, giving her a small shove, "Get your hands off me! What the hell do you think _you_ know about happiness?" she asked sharply, "What the hell do you think do you think you know about love? You're miserable, lonely and you don't even have a family of your own anymore. Why should I listen to you when _your_ husband's dead? Why should I listen to you when you've done nothing but ride the coattails of my family ever since my mother died? For Christ's sake Ellie, you were too much of a coward to even _tell_ Dad that you were-" She stopped short then. She didn't know why she was unable to finish, but for some reason, Cat couldn't gather the rest of nerve to say what she had meant to. There was something in the way that Ellie's entire facial expression had cracked and the way that the flicker of pain entered into her eyes that suddenly silenced Cat into sheepish guilt.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Cat couldn't bring herself to look Ellie in the eyes at first. When she finally did, she saw that there was a sheen mirrored in the older woman's eyes.

"Ellie-"

"Alright, Cat." Ellie's voice was a tremulous murmur, "You obviously know what you're doing…I guess I should just mind my own business and leave you to it."

"Ellie listen," she said, remorse already creeping back into her voice, "I didn't mean…I don't want you to think-"

"Don't bother yourself, hon." Ellie was getting into her jacket. She zipped it up and wrapped her scarf around her neck, "You're right. I have been too interfering in this family…" her voice dropped to a whisper, "And I am alone."

"Ellie, don't say that." Cat stood over her, trying to get her attention and make her stop what she was doing, "You're not alone, you're just as much a part of this family as I am, you always have been. I was just upset, I didn't want to-"

"I need to go for a walk, Cat." She stepped into her shoes and grabbed up her purse, "I need some time alone. Will you stay with Harry while I'm gone?" Ellie didn't wait for a reply, going towards the door quickly. As she swept by Cat, Cat saw the tears that had welled up in her eyes, suddenly spill down her cheeks, but they were hastily wiped away.

"Wait! When are you coming back?" Cat called after her, but she didn't answer, only letting the door slam shut behind her.

Cat sighed, combing her hair back and letting her face tilt upwards to the ceiling, "Shit…" she muttered. She went over to the window and watched Ellie walk down the road away from the hotel, continuously wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands. Cat leaned against the wall by the window, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself tightly.

There it was again. That uneasy, paranoid feeling that she had just done something terribly wrong and would pay for it later. Why couldn't she just be able to be at peace? Why had Ellie had to stir those feelings back up within her?

_She just doesn't understand_, Cat thought to herself. _That's all it is- she just doesn't understand…_

She laid down to take a nap beside Harry on the bed. It seemed like she had only been asleep for no more than ten minutes when she heard the door to the hotel room open and shut.

A few seconds later, she could feel the pressure from someone sitting down on her side of the bed. Cold, roughened, yet familiar hands stroked her face, swept her hair back. Even colder, but full lips brushed against hers.

"Wake up," Heath murmured to her.

Cat stirred, "What time is it?" she asked drowsily, "How long have I been asleep?"

"It's about late afternoon- you've been out a few hours, I guess."

She sat up, looking around. Harry was still fast asleep on the other bed, but besides that, there was no one else in the rom. "Where's Ellie?"

He shrugged simply, looking as though he couldn't care less, "Don't know." He stroked back some of 'her hair again, "I have a surprise for you." He said, that calm, but irresistible smile turning up his lips.

"A surprise?" she repeated, "What is it?"

Heath reached into the breast pocket of his leather coat and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it to her. "Take a look for yourself."

Cat took out the stack of papers that had been folded inside the envelope, scanning the words. Her expression quickly faded from confusion to utter shock. Her mouth cracked open and she let a sharp gasp of disbelief escape from it,

"Wh-_What_?" she exclaimed, tearing her gaze up from the papers to look back up at him, "I can't believe… you…you're going to _buy _the Heights?"

Heath nodded, "The Heights, the house, all the surrounding land it's on; all of it. I just left the bank, and they say that the transaction should become final within one to two business days."

"But Heath, how can you afford all of that? You heard how expensive Ms. Grant said it would be just to make repairs to-"

"I know how much it'll cost, Cat." He interrupted smoothly, "And I can afford it just fine."

But Cat was still in shock from the news and therefore unconvinced, "But how? You only just started to really sell your art- don't you want to try and save some of the money before putting it all into-"

Heath shook his head, interrupting her again, "Don't worry about any of that. I have the money. I can afford it."

Cat looked skeptical. She suddenly found herself remembering the talk she had had with Ellie before she first left Edgar, when Ellie had questioned the reasons why Heath would even want to have anything to do with helping Henry and saving her father's land and property. Remembering the conversation brought back those same doubtful thoughts she had had before. But why?" she asked him softly, "Really, Heath…why are you doing all of this?"

Heath's own expression became more somber and he waited a few moments before replying. "Because I want everything to be the way it was before…everything. I want us to have a chance to live back in the old house, to be able to be in the old woods, to be able to just be together the way that we were before. Henry can't hurt us anymore now, and we have the chance for everything to only be about you and me. We deserve that chance, Cat. No one has the right to take it from us. I bought it all because things were always meant to be this way…can't you understand that?"

Cat stared at him in silence for a few moments. Gradually, though, a slow smile turned up her lips until she was grinning.

"I can't believe it," she murmured, "After all this time…it's finally going to happen!"

Heath smiled too, "Believe it."

She started laughing, throwing herself into his arms as and holding him close, "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His reply was to draw back and kiss her- gently, at first, then when with increasing passion. Cat responded, beginning to feel her own desire for him becoming aroused. But when his hands went to her pants to open them, she broke the kiss, "No," she gasped, "We can't, not while Harry's-"

Heath kissed her again, "I don't care…" he said against her lips.

"But what if Ellie comes back and-"

"Shhh…"

He pushed her back down upon the pillows and moved onto the bed on top of her.

For a few moments, Cat remained uncertain, casting self-conscious glances to the still-sleeping Harry on the bed, and the door to the hotel room. Eventually however, she became lost to Heath's touch and lips, and let herself go, gladly surrendering to that moment…

* * *

Ellie paid the cab driver and opened the door to climb out of the car, reaching back inside to take Harry by the hand. The two of them walked into the entrance to the hospital, taking the elevator and going down the hallway leading to Henry's room.

It had been this way for some weeks now; she and Harry woke up very early, ate breakfast, then came here to the hospital to stay with Henry, sometimes for a few hours, other times for the entire day, until evening when they went back to the hotel for dinner.

On the days when they only stayed for a few hours at the hospital, Ellie took Harry for walks around the town. She took him around the vast stretch of nature, letting him play in the forest and fields on the edge of the Ernshawl's property. It was there that Harry seemed the most comfortable and even happy at times. Seeing him so at home in the environment reminded Ellie so much of Cat when she'd been young- as much as she hated to admit it, Harry had so much of his aunt's spirit…

Cat had only come with them to the hospital for the first two or three visits, and even then Ellie could sense that they were visits made out of mere courtesy. Eventually she'd stopped coming altogether. She could tell that Cat hadn't been interested in visiting with her brother, helping him in his rehabilitation, or giving him any kind of comfort. Ellie even sometimes thought that Cat had stopped caring about Henry altogether.

The only thing she seemed to care about was Heath.

Almost immediately after he announced his buying of the Ernshawl's house, the Heights, and the surrounding land, Heath reserved a separate suite in the hotel for him and Cat to stay in while the construction went on. Ellie and Harry meanwhile stayed in the original booked room. Ellie brooked no argument to it, and also refused when Cat offered her the opportunity for she and Harry to occupy the adjoining suite. She didn't want to be anywhere near Heath, and she also didn't want to be anymore a witness than she had to be to the frequent displays of affection and passion that went on between the couple that were beginning to border upon the obscene. It was bad enough knowing that Cat was sleeping with Heath, Ellie didn't want to be a witness to the almost disturbing way that he seemed bent upon showing it to her and the rest of the world.

On the days that she did see Cat, Ellie noticed the lip and teeth marks that always seemed to be peppered up and down her neck- marks that Cat never seemed embarrassed enough about to even try to hide. There were always circles underneath her eyes, indicating the limited amount of sleep she was getting at night. Cat also frequently asked her to take trips to the local pharmacy for birth control pills. The only reason Ellie agreed to pick them up for her was that the only thing worse to her than Cat sleeping with Heath was Cat sleeping with Heath and becoming pregnant with his child.

Ellie would never forget the day that Harry had casually mentioned to her actually being in the room once when the two of them had made love. When she'd confronted Cat about it, Cat had only laughed and shrugged it off, saying that he was bound to find out about it eventually.

The two of them were always together. Doing what besides having sex, Ellie didn't know and didn't care about. Her main concerns at the time were only Henry and Harry. Cat didn't want her concern, so Ellie stopped giving it to her.

Ellie and Henry came into the hospital room just as the nurse was leaving.

"Hello Mrs. Deene," she greeted her politely, "How are you this morning, Harry?"

Harry (as usual) said nothing, looking down at his feet.

"The doctor said that he's doing a little better today-if he can get his strength up, then maybe we can think about sending him home in a few more weeks."

Ellie gave a feeble smile. They'd been saying that to her for over two weeks as it was. "That's good."

"If you can, try and have him walk the halls as well- the doctor says it's very important if he's ever going to want to do without a walker when he goes home."

"I know- thank you."

"Not a problem, Mrs. Deene. Just call me if you need anything."

Ellie set her purse down by the door and approached the bed with Harry, "Hi, Henry- how you feeling this morning?"

Henry's still emaciated, sunken face was tilted upwards, his eyes focused blindly upon the ceiling. He didn't answer her but that wasn't any surprise to Ellie. In all of the visits that she and Harry had made to the hospital, Henry had still not said a word to anyone. The nurses told her that he never spoke at all, or seemed to respond to anything that anyone said to him. He almost seemed like he was in a catatonic trance.

Ellie sat down in the chair beside the bed, while Harry walked over to the window in the room and looked outside of it, leaning his arms against the sill. He never approached the bed to come close to Henry when they came to visit, and no matter how hard she tried, Ellie could never persuade him to say anything to his father. He hardly even looked at him. It was like Harry was trying to pretend that Henry wasn't even there…

"It's a beautiful day outside," she continued, "Still chilly, but the sun's out. It's good after all that rain we've been having."

Her eyes went to the walker stationed in the corner that was meant to help Henry take his exercise up and down the hallways, "Henry, you think you'd be up for some walking today?"

There was no answer.

"You know the doctor said that if you're ever going to want to walk again when you get out of here, then you have to practice. Do you want to be in a wheelchair or use a walker for the rest of your life?"

No answer.

Ellie gave a small sigh, looking down into her lap and shaking her head. Realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere, she changed the subject, "The um…the repairs on the house are moving along pretty quickly. You wouldn't believe all that they've been able to do in just a couple of months."

When Heath had bought the old house, the Heights and the surrounding property, he'd had contractors come into begin work on fixing the place up almost immediately. He paid them extra to work longer hours, putting in twice as much as work to make sure that it would be ready to move into sooner than usual. At first Ellie had been afraid that he had only bought the property to have it demolished- a cruel gesture of spite against her and Henry. Then when she saw that he didn't intend to do that, she worried that he had bought it to make so many changes to the place that it would be unrecognizable. But Ellie was finally beginning to understand the true motivation behind Heath's wanting the Heights and the rest of the property to belong to him. He was trying to build the world that he had always wanted for him and Cat- a world where he was in control. A world where Henry was at his mercy, and no one could stop him from being with the woman that he wanted, in the way that he wanted to be with her.

"They've put in a new plumbing and heating system. All the windows have been replaced. They're remodeling the kitchen and the bathrooms now. They won't be completely done after that, but all the same Cat told me that we'll be moving back into the house in a few weeks while they fix up the outside. We'll get to back home again- back to the Heights. If you start practicing walking a little more, maybe you'll be able to come home by the time they finish…"

Ellie looked at Henry and saw that he was staring across the room at Harry, who still stood at the window looking outside.

She reached out and gently touched Henry on the shoulder, "You could talk to him," she murmured, "Instead of just staring at him like that day after day."

Henry turned his face away at that, looking at the wall.

"He's a good boy, Henry. You should know that. He's shy and he doesn't say very much, but he's very obedient and smart. He loves the outdoors- just like Cat. He already knows that forest as well as she does. I want to talk to Cat about getting him enrolled in kindergarten soon."

There was still no reply, but Ellie could still tell that Henry was listening, even hanging onto her every word about his son.

"He's small, but he can eat like a horse- just like you. He likes music too. I'm thinking about maybe asking Cat if we can get him involved in some real lessons."

Nothing.

She gave a sigh of impatience, "You can't keep doing this, Henry. You can't keep ignoring everything and everybody just to try and make it all go away. It won't. Why won't you talk to me? Just say something, anything! If not to me, then at least to Harry- at least to your son! Don't you understand? He needs you- regardless of what you have or have not done in the past, Harry still needs you to be his father? Do you even care about him? What's the matter with you?"

She rose to her feet, "I've kept coming here hoping to be able to get through to you, and try to help you and Harry- but if you really have given up, then just say so, and we won't come anymore. I can't come here just to watch you give up, Henry. You're going to have to do that on your own."

She went over to where Harry was standing by the window and took him by the hand, starting to leave the room.

They'd just reached the door, when she suddenly heard Henry's voice, gravely and low call out to her,

"Don't come here again."

She paused and turned around, frowning at him, "Do you really mean that?" she asked, "Do you really want to stay here, day after day by yourself with no one to care for you? Do you really want to never see Harry again? Do you really want him to hate you when he grows up? Is that what you want, Henry?"

Henry didn't answer her question, only repeating, "You can't come here anymore, Ellie." He said, his voice giving increasing tremors, "Do you understand?"

"No, I don't!" she snapped, "I don't understand that! Help me understand why you're doing this. Why are you choosing to give up on yourself so easily?"

He closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head back and forth on the pillow, "Too many questions…" he muttered, "You always asked too many fucking questions…"

" Henry…please. Please just tell me what's-"

"Don't you understand?" he suddenly shouted at her, causing her to jump back in surprise, "You can't fucking _come _here anymore, Ellie! Don't come here, don't call me, don't even mention me anymore! You've got to act like I don't exist! Don't bring Harry here, don't talk to him about me, don't even let him think about me anymore!"

"How can you say that?" she demanded angrily, "Don't you care about him at all?"

"I love my _son_, Ellie…" he said brokenly, his voice cracking, "I do…"

"Then how can you push him away?"

"I'm doing it _for_ him!" Henry shouted back at her, his voice shaking with tears, "Can't you see that? As long as he hates me, as long as he stays as far away from me as possible, then he's safe. But if you keep bringing him back here, then he'll hurt him!"

The anger began to fade away from Ellie's face. "What does that mean?" she asked, "Who will hurt Harry?"

Henry shut his eyes, pounding his fist against his forehead in frustration, "Shit…" he whimpered tearfully, "_Shit_…"

Ellie rushed back to the side of the bed, "Henry," she asked more forcefully, "Who's going to hurt Harry?"

Henry was crying softly, his eyes covered by the back of his hand, "You've got to go," he moaned, "You've gotta leave…"

"Henry, you've got to tell me what you're talking about!" Ellie shook him hard by the shoulder, "Who's going to hurt Harry if I keep bringing him back to see you?"

Henry lowered his hand away from his face to look up at her. His eyes were flat and defeated, "Please," he whispered, "Please just get the hell _out_ of here!"

Ellie stared at him for a long moment. Then, the confusion left her face, being replaced with a grim realization. She straightened, and without another word strode out into the hallway.

She sat Harry down on a bench outside the hospital room and found the nurse attending Henry by the nurses' station and called her aside to talk in private.

"Has anyone else been to see him besides us recently?" she asked the nurse.

The nurse paused, still managing to keep the polite smile on her face, "No, Mrs. Deene, not that I know of."

"Are you sure?" Ellie asked firmly, "Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"Did Mr. Ernshawl say anything about having any other visitors?"

"No, Mr. Ernshawl didn't say anything about it, that's why I'm asking you!" she retorted, "I think that there's something wrong here, and if you have any idea about what it is, then I want to know about it."

The nurse seemed uncomfortable and stiff, "Mrs. Deene," she said, "Mr. Ernshawl's been through quite an ordeal physically. It is possible that the trauma that his body has taken from his pancreatitis has caused some feelings of paranoia and mental trauma on his-"

"To hell with paranoia!" Ellie suddenly snapped, "You're here every day same as me, you've seen him day after day in there! You know just as much as I do that that man is scared to death and something is wrong here!"

"Please, let's not get too excited. I'm sure we can get something worked out here. If you're that concerned for Mr. Ernshawl's psychological condition, then I can arrange for a psych consult with one of our doctors from the psychiatric ward."

"I don't want a psychiatrist, Henry's not crazy! I want to know if there's anything happening here to frighten him that he won't tell me about!"

"Even if I did know about such a thing, I couldn't tell you, Mrs, Deene," the nurse explained, "We're bound by our patient-caregiver oath of confidentiality, and if there was something happening that Mr. Ernshawl wanted to keep secret, then my job requires that I respect his wishes."

"This is ridiculous!" Ellie rubbed her eyes wearily, "Something may be happening to him, and none of you even care."

"Mrs. Deene, that's not true. I can set up an appointment with one of the hospital's psychiatrists, and we can try to clear all of this up if there is indeed a problem." When Ellie was still silent, she added more gently, "It's better than doing nothing."

Ellie hesitated for another moment or two before finally nodding. The nurse touched her shoulder,

"I'll make the call upstairs to psych. Someone should be down for a consult soon." She started to walk away, but Ellie called after her to wait.

"Please," she said, "Please just tell me the truth…you don't think Henry's just being paranoid, do you?"

The nurse paused for a long moment, looking as though she wanted to make a reply, but couldn't. Finally, she answered, "Mrs. Deene…the only thing that I can do, is to call a psych consult down for Mr. Ernshawl." She came closer to Ellie then, lowering her voice, "Hopefully Mr. Ernshawl will be able to be completely honest with the psychiatrist and tell him what really is wrong… so that he can get the help that he needs." She placed an emphasis on the last words, which caught Ellie's attention. They shared a long, meaningful stare and Ellie saw the intent in the nurse's eyes. She nodded in comprehension,

"Thank you." She said softly. The nurse gave her a small smile before walking away back towards the nurse's station.

Ellie looked back towards Henry's room, her expression grim and solemn.

She already knew what it was that was wrong with Henry. Or rather, she was almost sure that she knew_ who_ it was. There was only one thing that could put that kind of fear in Henry's eyes and voice- only one person…

Yes, she knew the truth. She would just need the proof of it that only Henry could give…


	48. Chapter 48: Unwanted Suspicion

**Chapter Forty Eight: Unwanted Suspicion**

Cat stirred in the bed as she felt Heath throw back his side of the covers and get up. The sunlight from the morning was beginning to peek through the curtains and fill the still dim bedroom with light.

She shifted back and forth in the warm dent made by the imprint of her body, snuggling in closer to herself. Her eyes opened and she watched Heath go over to the bureau and begin to take out clothes to wear, He was still naked from the night before and she gazed in desirous appreciation at the powerful, muscled contours of his body.

Last night after they'd come back from dinner, they'd come back to the hotel suite and Heath had made love to her – slow and passionately at first, then with a hard and fierce intensity that almost seemed on the brink of desperation. Just when Cat thought that he was finally spent and ready to sleep, Heath had only began again in that urgent, vehement way as if he was afraid that she was going to disappear. By the time he had finally collapsed on his side of the bed, Cat had almost been too tired and limp to even move.

The way that he made love was so intense that it overwhelmed her at times. They'd only done it that once when they were still teenagers, but in that one time, Heath had been nothing like he was now.

It always began normal enough- with the two of them sharing and giving equal amounts of passion and pleasure to each other. But eventually Heath's passion and intensity escalated far beyond her own, going higher and higher until it consumed Cat completely.

He constantly wanted to hear her say that she belonged to him, that she was his. He could never hear it enough, and to Cat, at times it almost seemed like he didn't believe her, as though he thought that she was only saying to placate him.

There were other times when she wasn't sure if he even enjoyed himself when he was with her. She'd looked up into his eyes as she clung to him on certain occasions and didn't think she'd ever seen someone look so miserable.

Whenever he finished, he always held her tightly to him, kissing and murmuring into her hair,

_I love you. You'll never know how much I love you. You belong to me. You'll always belong to me. _

One night after he'd made love to her, she'd drifted off to sleep, only to stir awake a little while later to make out the shape his silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched her. Cat had pretended that she was still sleeping, watching him through thinly slitted eyelids. She'd seen his shoulders slowly moving up and down as he looked at her. She heard the sound of soft, but shuddering breathing.

He was crying.

It hadn't taken Cat very long to figure out that Heath was still angry at her for the ways that she had hurt him. Even now, even after she'd returned to him and they were together again, what he had said that night at the diner all those months ago still hadn't changed.

He still hadn't forgiven her- not for leaving home and leaving him there, not for marrying Edgar, not for trying to move on with her life after Kane had told her he was dead- not for any of it.

Some nights, sleep eluded them both, and they merely held one another, gazing into the other's eyes in long periods of silence. He hardly ever spoke. But in the times that he did, Cat could feel the angry bitterness still lurking inside of him that was just as fresh and unforgiving as ever.

"You should have waited." He said to her one night. His voice was soft and quiet, but she could recognize the hardness in his eyes. "You should have waited for me. I waited for you."

"I know that, " she'd said. By then she knew that when Heath started talking like that, it was best to just agree with him, to say whatever it was that his hurt and pain was keeping him from fully believing or accepting, "I was wrong. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"All I ever wanted was to be with you." He had started to stroke her face, "All I ever wanted was for us to be together."

"We are." Cat had assured him, "We _are_ together now."

No matter how much she tried to assure him, no matter how completely and passionately he made love to her, or how good things seemed to be between them, Cat could always see that doubtful suspicion in Heath's eyes. She didn't know what to do to make it go away. She was starting to become afraid that it never would…

Cat pushed the nervous thoughts away from her mind as Heath turned and their eyes met. She didn't want him to think that she was upset- that would only do more to aggravate that doubt in his eyes. So she put on a smile for him, "Where are you going?" she asked.

"There's some more business I have to take care of about the house." He replied, buttoning up his shirt. "It shouldn't take that long."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

He shook his head, "It's nothing you should worry about. Stay here- I'll be back soon. And anyway, there's going to be someone coming to see you a little later today."

"To see me?" Cat repeated confusingly, "Who's that?"

"My lawyer." He answered, "He's going to come and talk to you about filing for the divorce."

Cat's expression froze stiffly, "The divorce…" she murmured, "Right…" She paused for a moment before asking, "Well, do we really have to be worrying about that right now?"

Heath looked surprised at the question, "It needs to be taken care of as soon as possible, Cat. I'd think you would have been wanted to settle the whole thing."

"It's not that I don't," she said hastily, "I just…with everything that's been going on already with the house construction, I wasn't sure…" She looked downwards, deliberately avoiding his gaze, "I didn't really want to think about something like that."

Heath came over to her side of the bed and sat down, raising her chin up and sweeping back some of her hair gently, "Don't worry about anything with the house- all of that's going to work out fine, I promise. And this will too- the only thing you have to do is cooperate with my lawyer, come to the meetings, and sign the papers. You've been separated from him for close to two months now. I'm sick of this not being taken care of. I want to get rid of all of that other shit that just held us back in the past. Don't you understand?"

Cat had winced at Heath's referring to Edgar and her life with as 'shit'. She didn't know why, but that had smarted and she felt perhaps that that wasn't quite a fair way of looking at it. Nonetheless, she nodded, as he continued,

"I think we can both agree that the sooner we get this over with, the better… right?" She heard the way his voice slightly sharpened at the last word and nodded again.

Heath nodded as well in satisfaction, "Good." He kissed her quickly, "Alright I've got to get going. My lawyer should be by to see you at around one, so make sure you're ready."

Cat held onto his hand when he started to get up, "Hey," she said, "I love you."

Heath smiled at her, "I love you too."

When he was gone, Cat stayed in the bed for a few minutes, her eyes focused on the ceiling of the bedroom while her mind wandered.

Edgar hadn't tried to contact her in the months since she had left him. She didn't know why that surprised her, but it did. The Edgar that she thought that she knew would have kept trying to make her change her mind. He never gave up on her. He never stopped loving her, no matter what she did.

Cat wasn't sure if Edgar still loved her or not, but it was clear that he had at long last finally given up on her and stopped trying. He had finally let her go.

This divorce would really sever all ties between them once and for all. There would be no more Edgar in her life. It would be a strange feeling. She had spent five years of their marriage rooting herself into Edgar's life as a way of coping with the pain of losing Heath. Now, she was getting ready to uproot herself out of it.

Cat turned onto her stomach restlessly, clasping a pillow to her body with an exasperated sigh.

She didn't know why she was even thinking that way or even thinking about Edgar in the first place. She shouldn't have cared about severing all her ties with him. She shouldn't have cared that she would never see him again once the divorce was settled.

She shouldn't have cared…but she did.

If only she didn't keep thinking if the way he had looked when she'd left. If only she could stop seeing the pain in his eyes…

The image of Edgar's eyes made her feel the same way that she had felt when she'd said those hurtful things to Ellie- as though she'd done something horribly wrong and would pay for it later. Maybe that was what it was that was staying with her- the guilt of what she'd done to him.

Cat sat up in the bed, shaking her head so that her hair fell down across back. She threw back the covers that covered her body and got out of bed, going into the bathroom to take a shower, leaving her feelings and thoughts back in the bed.

She had to stop thinking about things like guilt and regret. She had to stop thinking in the past. She could only afford to think about the here and now- Edgar was her past. Heath was her here and now…

* * *

"It's good to finally meet you Miss Ernshawl," Heath's lawyer shook her hand firmly as he stood up from the table in the restaurant. He pulled out her chair for her and she sat down on the other side of him.

"Nice to meet you too," she replied, "Mr…?"

"Oh, excuse me." He apologized, "I'm Haven. Dirk Haven. I thought Mr. Cliffe would have told you…" his voice trailed off uncomfortably before he cleared his throat, "Well… are you hungry? Can I order you anything to eat?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. Can we just um…get down to things?"

"Of course, of course." He hastily reached for his briefcase at his feet and began drawing papers and file folders out onto the table, "Now, then. I already have some basic information to start with that's got the ball rolling. You'll be initiating the proceedings as the plaintiff as Mr. Linton and his legal representation have yet to file any documents for the divorce."

Cat winced. They'd been separated for months, and Edgar still hadn't made a single move to divorce her yet. He could have, but he still hadn't.

Was he still hoping that she would change her mind and come back to him? Was he still, after all that time and all that had happened, refusing no completely give up on her and let her go?

Haven was continuing reading through his paperwork, "Now, Mr. Cliffe has already informed me that you intend to file on the grounds of you and Mr. Linton's relationship breaking down irretrievably in the past six months-"

"Heath told you that?" Cat broke in abruptly.

"Yes, he informed that these were your wishes for the grounds. Was he wrong about that?"

Cat didn't answer at first. The revelation that Heath had already gone ahead and started making decisions about her divorce from Edgar without her permission or without even at least telling her was unsettling to her for some reason.

She knew that he hadn't meant any harm by it. She knew that he was only impatient for her to be done with it and that his impatience was only rooted in his love for her.

She knew that.

But all the same…

"Ms. Ernshawl?" Haven's voice grabbed back at her attention, "Was Mr. Cliffe mistaken in your grounds for filing the divorce?"

Cat hastily shook her head, "No. No, that's fine. I- I know that I told him that that was what I planned to do," the lie rolled off her tongue in a false flippancy that Cat knew Haven could see right through, "I must have just forgot."

He nodded slowly, "Right. Of course...normally in situations like these where the clients are particularly wealthy there is a high potential for a rather bitter divorce battle. Clients in financial positions like you and Mr. Linton usually spend months upon months arguing over financial settlements and agreements on who is entitled to what possessions and how much will be paid in any prospective alimony or child support payments. But luckily, in this case, you'll be relieved to know that I don't think that this has the potential to be a bitter or even unpleasant process at all for either you or your soon to be ex-husband."

"Well, what makes you think that?" she asked him.

"In the first place, you and Mr. Linton don't have any children. That eliminates any conflict with child support as well as any future custody battles. Secondly, you've only been married for near to five years- the state of New York requires a minimum of ten years to qualify for any alimony payments on either side. Most importantly, there was your desire to forfeit any requests for property distribution or spousal support from Mr. Linton in the settlement."

Cat was immediately struck by his last words and instantly pounced on them, "Wait, _wait_…what did you just say?"

Haven paused from scanning the documents to look up at her in surprise, "That you had forfeited any rights to any material possessions, property or wishes for spousal support in your divorce settlement from Mr. Linton."

Cat shook her head, dumbfounded, "But I didn't. I'm not, I-I mean…I never said I wanted to do that."

He frowned, "You mean you don't want to forfeit any rights to any possessions or money from Mr. Linton?"

"No!" Cat scoffed incredulously "Of course I don't! Where would you get the idea that I would want something like that?"

At this, Haven seemed to become very uncomfortable, shifting in his seat and averting his eyes down to the paperwork, "Well, Mr. Cliffe also informed me that that was your wish as well."

Car stared at him for along moment. "He really said that I wouldn't want to request anything from Edgar at all?"

Haven shook his head, "Yes." he murmured, "He uh…he also said that you didn't want to request that Mr. Linton pay any of your legal fees."

There came a long, uncomfortable silence as Cat stared into space in stunned disbelief, while Haven tried not to stare at her in increasingly sympathetic comprehension.

Cat caught a single glimpse of his expression and felt an instant need to get away from it. She didn't ever want to be looked at like that. That pitying gaze from a stranger, that looked at her as though she were some kind of victim, as though there was some unpleasant thing or person in her life that was worthy of their pity.

She didn't need his pity. There wasn't anything about her life that was worthy of it, no matter what Heath had said that she said.

It was just a misunderstanding. All she had to do was talk to him about it, and the misunderstanding would be cleared up. He'd made an assumption that she wouldn't want anything from Edgar in the divorce, but Cat was sure that as soon as she talked to him and told him the truth of what she did want.

"Excuse me," she said hastily, "I'm sorry but, would you mind if we just ended this meeting a little early and you let me call to reschedule? There are some…details that I still need to make some decisions on."

"I understand." Haven said solemnly. "I'll just leave you my card and we can reschedule as soon as is convenient for you." He handed her the card, which Cat took hesitantly.

"Thank you." She rose to her feet and left the restaurant in a hurry, anxious to get back to the hotel to see if Heath had returned from his meeting.

She was disappointed. Heath wasn't in the suite when she got back. A few moments after she arrived though, there was a brisk knock at the door. Cat didn't hurry to answer it, knowing that Heath wouldn't have been knocking having his own key. She was a little surprised to see Ellie standing outside in the hallway, Harry at her side. She hadn't even seen Ellie or her nephew in a few days, but at that moment Cat didn't care much for that. Her mind was still troubled from the meeting with Haven and she was in the mood to deal with little else.

"Ellie, I know I haven't really been around for the past few days, but I'm really tired right now so I'd appreciate it if you could give me a few hours to my-"

Ellie swept past her into the room with Harry, cutting her off, "I'm sorry to bother you Cat, but this is important." She said firmly.

Cat sighed frustratingly, shutting the door behind them with a small bang. "Fine." She muttered, "Come in."

Ellie gestured to Harry to sit down on the couch in the living area, "You stay right here and wait for me. I'm going to talk to your aunt for a little while, okay?" she straightened and turned to Cat, "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Cat begrudgingly followed her into the bedroom and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, leaning back onto her hands while Ellie shut the door and stayed standing, crossing her arms over her chest,

"Well?" Cat asked impatiently.

"Where's Heath?"

"He's out taking care of some business." Cat answered, the defensive edge already entering her voice.

"What kind of business?"

"I don't know. Something to do with the house, I guess. When he gets back, you can ask him yourself."

"When is he coming back?"

"I don't know."

Ellie nodded with a grim smile, "I think that there are a lot of things that you don't know very much about, Cat."

Cat scoffed impatiently, "Don't start that with me today, Ellie, I'm not in the mood. Either tell me what it is you want, or get out of here."

"I think that something's very wrong with Henry. Cat."

"Me too. He's got chronic pancreatitis."

"That's not what I mean," she objected, "I mean, I think that there's something else happening to him."

"Like what?"

"I think that he's afraid of something…or someone hurting him.

"I don't understand what you're getting at."

Ellie sighed and sat down beside Cat on the bed, "The last time that I went to see Henry, he spoke to me."

Cat lifted her brows in surprise, "He finally said something? What'd he say?"

"He said that I couldn't come back to see him anymore. That I couldn't bring Harry to see him ever again. He said that I should just keep Harry out of his life forever."

Cat sighed heavily, "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea," she muttered, "What kind of father could Henry possibly be to Harry now?"

"That's only half of it, Cat." Ellie continued, "Henry said that if I kept bringing Harry back to see him- if I even kept coming back to the hospital that someone was going to hurt Harry."

Cat frowned at that, "What do you mean?" she asked, "Who would hurt Harry?"

"That's just what I thought. It's obviously someone that Henry's very afraid of, or he wouldn't have tried to tell me to stay away. And it's obviously someone who's been spying on him at the hospital."

"It could just be some loan shark that he owes money to," she mused, "Someone who's using Harry as some kind of leverage,"

"Loan sharks just want Henry's money, Cat. They wouldn't care about him being separated from his son or the two of us."

"Well, maybe he's just being paranoid," Cat said irritably, "He could just be making the whole thing up."'

"The hospital wouldn't tell me anything about anyone who may have been visiting him. The only thing they said they'd do was arrange for a psych consultation for Henry."

"You mean have a shrink come and see if he's just crazy?"

"In a manner of speaking. The consult was yesterday, and the doctor called and spoke to me about his opinion this morning."

"What did he say is wrong with Henry?"

"He said that Henry is still suffering from a severe post-traumatic stress disorder- both from what he went through in the war and with Francie's death. But the disorder is only partially responsible for the drinking problem."

Cat frowned, "Partially? What else is the matter with him that would make him want to drink so much?"

Ellie reached out and took her hand, as if to calm her for what she was about to say, "Cat, the doctor believes that Henry's drinking may have been motivated by suicidal urges."

Cat stared at her, "What?" she asked in a hushed voice, "You mean-his drinking, the pancreatitis…he was really just trying to kill himself?"

Ellie shook her head, "I don't know, honey. I think that may have been part of it."

"What's the other part?" Cat felt her stomach sinking in dread of whatever else could possibly be coming next.

Ellie went on, "The doctor also said that he believes that Henry may have been drinking so much to kill himself because he is afraid or paranoid that someone or something is out to get him. And he's so afraid, that he's willing to do anything to try and escape from that person or thing…even if it meant dying."

Cat was quiet for a long time, looking down into her lap. "After all this time," she murmured, "He finally let it all get to him. He's finally losing it." She stood up from the bed and sighed frustratingly, "Dammit," she muttered, "Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. He was right after all…"

"Right?" Ellie repeated, "What do you mean? Who was right?"

"Heath." She replied, "He told me that this would happen. He said that he thought Henry was losing it. That the booze and the stress would drive him crazy. I didn't want to listen- but he was right."

Ellie frowned, "What makes him think that Henry's delusional?"

"Well, what else could it be, Ellie? You heard the shrink yourself. Henry's suffering from PTSD. He wanted to commit suicide, and he believes that someone is out to get him. There can't be any other explanation than that he's just losing his grip on reality."

Ellie scoffed incredulously, "Yes there _can_! Cat, what if he is really scared of a real thing or person that really does want to hurt him or Harry?"

"Ellie, that's not likely. Who would scare Henry so bad as to drive him to this?"

Ellie didn't answer. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as silence filled the room. Her eyes locked onto Cat's though- and those eyes spoke volumes.

Cat looked back at her with increasing disbelief and incredulity. "What the…" she murmured, "What are you getting at, Ellie? What the _hell_ are you trying to say?"

"I don't have to try to say it, Cat." Ellie replied simply, "I'll just go ahead and say it straight out.

"I think that Heath has been threatening Henry. I think that he's been threatening him for a long time now- not just since we got back here. And not just with Henry's safety, but with Harry's safety. I think that Henry started drinking so heavily at first to try and forget what Heath was doing to him- but eventually he became so afraid, that he's trying to kill himself. And I think that's exactly what Heath wants him to do."

Cat looked at her silently for a long time. Her hazel eyes were hard and unyielding and she stood very still. When she finally did speak again, her voice was quiet but firm, "Ellie…you're going to take Harry and get out of here right now. Get… _out_, do you hear me? Get out, and don't try and say another word to me about this, and I just may be able to forgive you for what you have the nerve to be suggesting."

"Cat-"

"No!" Cat snapped at her, "I said get out, Ellie! You shut up, and get the hell out of here! I mean it!"

But Ellie didn't budge, "No Cat, I'm not going anywhere. Not until you tell me why. Why is it so hard for you to believe? Has he got you so tucked under his thumb that you can't believe anything bad about him anymore?"

"And do you really hate him so much that you could actually believe that Heath would ever do anything so cruel and vicious? Ellie are you even listening to what you're _saying_? Heath wouldn't do something like that, no matter what Henry's done to him!"

"Stop thinking with your heart and think with your head!" Ellie retorted, "Just stop and think. In all the years that Henry mistreated him, Heath never once talked to you about wanting to get even with him? He never even hinted at the possibility of taking revenge on Henry for everything he went through?"

Cat stared at her, beginning to feel the uneasiness creep up her spine.

A memory was assailing her, a memory from long ago.

It had been the night that she had come home from New York with Edgar and Isabella. The night she and Heath had been sitting beside the river together as she watched him wolf down food she'd had to sneak out to him after her brother had gone to bed. She remembered the look in Heath's eyes- the things he had said….

"_I __said__ I'm going to make him pay- and I am. Everything he's ever done to me- every beating, every word, every time he ever kept me from you….I'll make him suffer…make him suffer…make him suffer…"_

The words echoed in Cat's mind, and suddenly she felt afraid- but of what she didn't know.

Ellie looked at her grimly, "You know I'm right, Cat. You know I am."

Cat was quiet for a few moments longer, then swallowed hard, the egg in her throat slowly going down. "The only thing I know," she whispered, "Is that you're going to get out of here right now….and never…ever talk to me about this again."

Ellie gave her a final look of pitying disgust before turning around and leaving the room. Cat waited until she heard the door the suite open and shut before sinking down onto the edge of the bed, placing her face in her hands.

"It's not true…it's not…it's_ not_…"

She wasn't going to allow herself to think about any of what Ellie had said. Not now. Not when there were so many other things on her mind.

And besides- she knew Heath. She knew him.

He wouldn't do any of the things that Ellie was accusing him of. He wasn't like Henry. He wasn't that cruel.

He wasn't.

She laid down on the bed and tried to sleep. Her mind was too full to find slumber, but Cat stayed there anyway- curled up in a fetal position as she held herself and looked out the window of the bedroom, waiting.

After what seemed like forever, she heard the door to the suite open and close and footsteps came down the hall.

Cat didn't stir from her position as Heath came into the bedroom, or when he leaned over and kissed her in greeting.

"You've been gone all day." She stated, careful to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.

"I know. I'm sorry, I was busy and lost track of the time."

Cat licked her lips tentatively. She had to avoid becoming that woman- the woman who waits at home and nags. The role that her mother had played with their father for the last months of her life and their marriage. The woman she had sworn never to become. She'd scorned her mother all of her life for being that kind of woman- she'd spent all those years scorning her without knowing just how easy it was to become that person…

"Where've you been?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound flippant and breezy.

"Out." He was sliding out of his coat and hanging it in the closet.

Cat bit her lip, unable to resist pressing further, "Where?"

Heath glanced at her then, "Just out." He answered, his voice carrying the smallest edge to it.

Cat nodded hastily, "Okay." She smiled, as if to silently reassure him that she wasn't suspicious or angry at him-that there was nothing wrong.

She wouldn't let anything be wrong. She wouldn't let herself be angry or suspicious.

But even that didn't keep the smile from feeling forced, "I…I missed you today."

Heath was getting undressed for a shower. He pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor, "How did the meeting with Haven go?" he asked. She wished that she hadn't noticed that he hadn't said that he missed her back.

Cat struggled to answer, "It…it got over a little early. I said I wanted to…think about some things before I made any decisions."

"'Think'?" Heath repeated, "What does that mean? What's there for you to think about?"

Cat hesitated for a few more moments, realizing there wasn't any other way to address the issue other than to just say it, "Why did you tell him I didn't want anything from Edgar in the divorce settlement?" she asked quietly.

"Because you don't." Heath answered, unbuckling and stepping out of his pants.

Cat frowned, "What do you mean? Heath…I never told you that. We never decided on-"

"You're divorcing him, Cat," He draped a towel over his midriff and secured it at the side, "You're cutting him off from your life completely. Taking any of his money just keeps a piece of him in your life. Why would you take any?"

"Heath, I'm not working anymore." Cat was trying to keep her voice level, to keep the desperate strain out of it. It was becoming increasingly harder to do. She'd thought at first that it had all been a misunderstanding- that Heath had never meant for her to walk away from her marriage to Edgar virtually penniless. She'd never imagined that was what he had really wanted for her, "I only have a little over half a million dollars in the bank- that's not going to last me forever. I have bills, expenses, Ellie, Harry and Henry to think about- what do you expect me to do about money?"

"I expect you to let me handle all of that, Cat." He came over to her and crouched down so that his face was level to hers, "You don't need to work anymore. _I'm_ going to take care of you now. Let me do that now that I know that I can."

Cat looked at him in silence for a few moments, almost feeling sad.

So that was what it was all about. Proving that he could take just as good care of her as Edgar had. Proving it to her, to Edgar, to Ellie-even to himself.

His pride had been broken from watching her live a life of wealth and luxury with Edgar. This was his way of trying to salvage and mend the broken pieces that even then, still remained.

Cat managed a feeble smile, "Okay." She replied, hoping that she didn't sound and look as uncertain as she felt.

Heath took her hands in his and kissed the backs of them gently, one after the other.

"I went to see the house today," he said, "The builders are telling me it'll be ready to move into in a couple of weeks."

Cat's face lit up, the uncertainty from only a few moments ago already beginning to fade, "That's great! I never thought they'd be able to get it all done so soon."

"Start thinking about things you want for the house- we'll have to go shopping to fill it up soon."

She rolled her eyes, "Heath, you know I'm no good with that stuff. We'd better let Ellie deal with picking things out to decorate the house."

At the mention of Ellie's name, Heath's face darkened, He pulled his hands out of hers and rose to his feet, "I didn't buy back the house and The Heights for Ellie. I bought them for _us_. She doesn't have anything to do with it. She _won't_ have anything to do with it." He walked into the bathroom without another word and closed the door.

Cat stared after him, stunned by the harsh tone that had abruptly entered his voice at the mention of Ellie. He'd suddenly looked so angry and spiteful- just as she had when she'd been talking about him a little while ago.

She laid back down on the bed on her back, looking up at the ceiling.

Why did they seem to hate each other so much now? What had happened between the two of them? And what was she going to do to fix it?

* * *

"I don't know why I feel so excited," Cat was fidgeting in the passenger seat, a grin plastered on her face as she looked out the car window. "It's just home, I've been here a million times before, but I still feel like I'm going somewhere new, somewhere different!"

Heath smiled back at her as he drove the car down the familiar dirt road, "It's an old and new place," he replied, "It's okay to be excited about that."

Cat looked into the backseat where Ellie was sitting with Harry, "Do you feel excited to be going back too, Ellie?"

Ellie glanced at her briefly, before looking back out her window, her indifferent expression unchanging, "It'll be good to not have to live in the hotel anymore at least." Her reply was clipped and flat. She held onto Harry's hand securely and said nothing more.

Cat's smile faded a little and she turned back around to face forward.

Ever since the day that Ellie had made the accusation against Heath to Cat, she'd been distant from her. Even when Cat had tried to talk to Ellie about going shopping to refurnish the house, Ellie had shut her down, refusing to have anything to do with it. Eventually Cat and Heath had gone alone, Heath allowing Cat to buy any and everything that she wanted. Cat's taste wasn't as good as Ellie's, but living with the Lintons for all those years had helped to teach her at least a little bit of interior decorating.

She'd been surprised at how extravagant Heath' tastes were, though. Whenever Cat tried to opt for a less expensive furnishing, Heath always insisted on nothing but the best, whatever the exorbitant cost.

Italian leather furniture. Stainless steel, high tech kitchen appliances. Marble countertops. Exquisite light fixtures.

The bed that they'd eventually selected for their bedroom had to be placed on special order from New York. It was the largest one available, a California King feathered down mattress, with an elegant canopy frame. Cat had protested, saying that she didn't need a bed that big or expensive, but Heath had dismissed her protestations, and handed the salesman his credit card.

She didn't understand why he seemed so determined to prove to her, to Ellie, to everyone, that there wasn't anything that he couldn't afford anymore. That he was rich enough to buy any and everything.

Cat didn't how his art alone could possibly be making Heath so rich. Even as good and as expensive as it was, it just didn't make any sense for him to be able to spend literally thousands of dollars in a single day without blinking an eyelash.

The thought occurred to her that the money was coming from another source. But if she were to believe that, then she'd have to believe that Heath was making a lot of money in a way that he hadn't told her about. She would have had to believe that he was intentionally keeping a secret from her, and Cat didn't want to think about that.

Heath turned the car turned onto the familiar bend that came out of the forest , then onto the gravel driveway that went up the low hill. Cat leaned forward to look out the window, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"Oh Heath…"

The house looked so familiar, and yet so different.

The entire wood paneling on the exterior had been replaced. Fresh paint covered it, brilliantly reflecting the light from the sunshine. All of the broken windows were gone, new ones in their place. The lawn that only a couple of months ago had been strewn with litter and weeds had been manicured to perfection with tufts of green, lush grass rising out of the ground. The flower beds that Ellie had groomed were there again, creating a wide array of colors around the house and lawn.

The Heights looked even better than it did in the days when her father had been alive. Fresh paint also coated the exterior walls, and though the garage doors were down and it was empty inside, Cat could almost pretend that nothing had changed and that any moment she would see Will Ernshawl coming out the side entrance.

Heath parked the car in front of the house and they all got out. Cat started to go to the trunk to get her belongings out, but Heath caught a hold of her hand, "Leave it." He said, "We can get all of that later."

He led her up the steps and to the front door, reaching into his pocket for the keys. Opening the door, he allowed her to go in first.

There was the familiar staircase staring back at her. But it had changed from the last time Cat had seen it. Before, the steps had been made of ordinary wood that had faded and became worn over the years. Now, gleaming cherry wood had been installed in its place. New paint covered the walls. Oil paintings that Cat recognized as Heath's were hung up. A new lighting fixture hung from the ceiling of the hallway, elegant and modern. There was a fresh smell in the air of wood, paint and cleanliness.

"Well?" Heath asked her, "Do you like it?"

Cat saw the pressing look in his eyes, she heard it in his voice. It made her smile. He was so intent on her getting approval of the house, of what he had rebuilt for her.

"It's absolutely beautiful."

He smiled back at her, "C'mon. There's more." Still holding her hand, he led her off down the hall towards the kitchen and living room. Cat looked back to where Ellie and Harry were still standing in the doorway.

"Aren't you coming?" she called back, but there was no reply. It didn't matter though- by then, she and Heath were already in the next room.

They went through the entire house, Heath showing her every change or improvement he'd had the builders make. The last place they went to was their bedroom, the old room that Will and Tina Ernshawl had shared when they were still alive. Cat stared at the enormous painting that hung on the wall opposite to the bed- it was the painting of her that Heath had done months before in his apartment. Cat had never seen the finished product until then, and she had to admit- she looked beautiful in it.

He came up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist and bringing his mouth close to her ear,

"That's how I always think of you," he murmured. "That's how I'll always want to think of you." He turned her around to face him, tipping her chin up to look square into her eyes, "Tell me you love me."

She rolled her eyes and smiled at him, "You know I love you, Heath." She answered.

But Heath wasn't smiling, "I want to hear you say it, Cat. Say it."

"I love you."

"And you know that I love you?" he asked her, "You know that I would do anything to keep us together? Anything?"

Cat was confused at what he meant by that, but she nodded anyway, "Yeah. Of course I know that."

Heath pulled her close to him and kissed her. They held one another for a little while, his face against her hair,

"This is all for us, Cat. It's all for us…"


	49. Chapter 49: The Painful Separation

_A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone. Forgive me. Thank you for your faithfulness to my story, I appreciate it._

_-Jess_

**Chapter Forty Nine: The Painful Separation**

Ellie woke up early, well before sunrise. She washed and dressed herself for the day, then went out into the hallway outside her bedroom. As she expected, Harry was there waiting for her.

He always woke up before her, coming to wait patiently for her outside her door in the morning. During the day, he was her constant shadow and helper. He still didn't speak much at all, even when Ellie tried to engage him in conversation, but he was nonetheless steadfast and helpful in whatever way he thought could be.

Even with the way that he shadowed her, Ellie still didn't fool herself into thinking that she was taking Heath's place in Harry's heart. Whatever the reason was that Harry stayed so attached to her, that wasn't it. The boy still worshipped Heath, she knew that, however much she didn't like it.

Ellie felt sorry for Harry- no matter how much he loved Heath, it didn't seem to matter much to Heath now- all of his time was spent with Cat, alone. Every so often she would catch Harry throwing Cat dirty glances and glares. She knew that wasn't because Harry had any personal dislike of his aunt- he was only jealous of the attention that Heath was willing to give her.

The two of them went downstairs and into the kitchen, where Ellie began to get breakfast ready. Just as she had done when she had lived with the Ernshawls before, Ellie still acted as the caretaker of the house- cooking, cleaning and overseeing its upkeep. She had even replanted her flower and vegetable gardens.

Ellie hadn't decided to do any of it for Cat's sake. It was all for Harry- to try and give him some semblance of a normal, balanced life in a good home, to allow him to grow up in the house of his family, as his grandfather would have wanted for him.

She began getting out food to prepare, turning on the stove and the television in the kitchen that she always listened to while cooking. Harry sat at the table a few feet away, waiting for her to give him a small, simple task to do to help her. Usually it was something like stirring the eggs or pancake batter or sifting flour.

Putting a glass of milk in front of him before continuing, Ellie smiled as she swept back some of his curly, dark hair. She had been doing her best over the past few months to put some of the weight back on the boy that he had lost so much of in her absence. Luckily he had the appetite of a horse and always ate plenty of what she put in front him. It should only take a few more months before he was at a healthy weight again.

She had been cooking for about a half an hour when Heath strode into the kitchen. Their eyes met briefly before Ellie re-averted her eyes back down to the food, her posture tensing.

"What do you want?" she asked him tersely. She didn't even like being in the same room with Heath anymore. She may have had to live in the same house with him, but she didn't have to pretend to like it.

"You're still going to the hospital to see Henry." Heath stated.

"That's right." Ellie dusted the flour off of her hands, "I thought someone should come and visit him, as his own sister doesn't seem to think it's very important."

"I hear you're doing a little detective work. Interviewing nurses. Calling down shrinks to make bullshit diagnoses."

"Did Cat actually tell you that, or are you just having someone spy on me?"

"I want it to stop, Ellie." Heath said, ignoring her question.

"Really? And what reason do I have to give a damn about what _you_ want?"

Heath braced his hands against the countertop, leaning against it a little closer, "I don't know what shit Henry's been feeding you, Ellie," he said quietly, "But you're going to stop listening to it, and you're going to stop going to see him."

"You know exactly what 'shit' Henry's been 'feeding' me, Heath." Ellie replied, "And I'm not Cat- you can't tell me what I will and will not do, and you sure as hell can't bully me around just because you painted some pictures and have a few bucks in the bank. I'll do whatever I please and see who I like."

"Maybe you forgot who's paying for that food you're cooking, the bed you're sleeping on. Maybe you forgot who's home you're living in now."

She glared at him, "This is William Ernshawl's home. This is his family's home. And it always will be."

"And he made me apart of his family, or don't you remember? He loved me more than he loved his own son."

"He may very well have loved you, but you never loved Will, Heath. You've never loved his family. You don't know how to love anybody…not even yourself."

"Fuck you." He suddenly snapped at her, "I'm only going to say this once, Ellie: you stay the hell out of things that don't have a damn thing to do with you. Including Henry." He started to walk away from her, but Ellie halted him, calling out challengingly,

"And if I don't?"

Heath turned, giving his tight, sneering smile that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, "You think you're real smart, don't you? That you've got everything figured out…" He walked toward her, coming close so that his face was inches from hers,

"I said…stay away from him Ellie."

The feel of his breath against her face made her skin start to crawl anxiously, but Ellie stood her ground. Her anger at his continuous threats was overriding her fear of him. "Or what, Heath? You'll put me in the hospital like you did Henry? Kill me like you did Francie? Go ahead; mow everybody who's in your way down if you want, but in the end it's just gonna be you-not the sick fantasy world you imagine with just you and Cat, just you. You think everyone else have been the ones screwing up your life?"She scoffed, shaking her head, "You've been outdoing them by far ever since you started all this, Heath. And you're gonna put anything Henry could have done to it to shame by the time you're finished. What I do's got nothing to do with how all of this is going to end. Now get out of this kitchen."

Heath kept his eyes locked with hers for a few moments longer, and Ellie couldn't tell what he was going to do. She didn't get a chance to find out though.

Her gaze tore from Heath's eyes, to Harry, who got down off the chair at the table and came over to where Heath stood. He clasped a hold of Heath's jeans and leaned against his leg, as he usually liked to do, hiding behind it as if it were a fortress.

Ellie looked down at him, being filled with a sinking realization. Suddenly, she knew exactly how Heath knew that she was visiting Henry in the hospital, how he knew everything that she had been doing.

_Oh Harry, _was all that she could think.

Heath saw that she understood, smiling at her tightly. He swept his hand across Harry's curly head, as if he were petting a dog.

"You see?" he said, "Everything in this house is mine now, Ellie…everything." He turned and walked confidently from the room, Harry trailing behind him.

Slightly shaken, Ellie leaned back against the counter, cradling her head in her hands.

Heath may as well have been right. Heath did own the house now; the Heights, the land. He practically owned everyone who lived here too. Cat obeyed him because she loved him, Henry obeyed him because he was afraid of him. She stood alone in her opposition to his authority. And that opposition was weakened anyway- with Heath influencing both Cat and Harry against her, Ellie found herself questioning what her real purpose was in this place anymore at all.

She loved the Ernshawls. She always had, since the first day she had come here. She loved this family. That would have to be her only remaining reason, even if it seemed like an empty one now.

She loved this family- this _was_ her family. She had to do everything in her power to preserve it, to protect it from the harm Heath was trying to do to it.

She didn't even know how to do it anymore, but she would. She would find a way. Whatever it cost, she would protect the Ernshawl family…

* * *

Cat had been having a bad dream. It was the same one she had had before, where she was lost and naked in the foggy darkness, calling out for someone to help her. She had seen Heath again, and cried out for him. But he had walked away from her again, still out of her reach.

She awoke, reaching out for Heath instinctively, but she felt only air. Cat sighed in disappointment.

Although he was always there with her when they went to bed, Heath was beginning to be gone more and more in the morning when she woke up, She missed the way he had used to soothe her bad dreams when they were younger and she had had to sneak into his bedroom at night. It would have helped so much now that they were starting to come back to haunt her again.

Sometimes she found him painting in the studio he'd set up for himself in the attic. Other times she had woken up and looked out the window of their bedroom that overlooked the field behind the house and seen him at their tree alone. And other times (more increasingly in the past few weeks), she just hadn't known where Heath had gone.

Cat curled up in the bed, hugging Heath's pillow to her chest. She inhaled deeply, clinging to his scent.

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open and Heath strode into the room. Cat immediately sat up in bed, a smile lighting up her face. The smile dimmed though when she saw Heath's angry expression,

"Cat, what the hell is this?" he demanded, shaking a piece of white paper in face.

Confused and slightly hurt, Cat shook her head, "What do you mean? What is what?"

"What is this about?" He threw it down on the bed in her direction, "Linton's lawyer sent a notice saying that he wants to have a sit-down negotiation meeting with his lawyer, you and Haven."

"_What_?" Cat picked up the piece of paper, scanning it quickly, "But that doesn't make any sense…"

"I called up Haven and he says all this is legit, that Linton really wants to meet up with you. You want to explain to me what the hell this is all about? I thought I explained to you everything you needed to do to settle this. I thought you understood." She could sense his temper starting to incense, and she rushed to cool it.

"But I did!" She protested, "I _do_! I told Haven I wasn't taking anything from Edgar. I said he could have it all, the only thing I wanted was the divorce."

"Then why does he still want this meeting? I want an answer Cat, and I want it _now_!" his voice raised sharply, and she flinched.

"I don't know! Heath, I swear to God, I have no idea why he's doing this, or what this is even about!" She got up off the bed and came to stand in front of him, touching his face gently, "Just calm down, okay? This doesn't have to be a problem, it doesn't. It doesn't have to matter."

But Heath jerked out of her touch, "Oh, so you think I'm just supposed to think this is nothing?" he snapped, "You think I don't see what he's trying to do to us? You think I'm that stupid?" He took a step closer towards her. Intimidated by the menace in his posture, Cat took an instinctive step back.

"No! Of course I don't think that!" She retorted, "I just think you're overreacting about something that doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Don't be so naïve. This doesn't have a damn thing to do with money." Heath began to pace back and forth, "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, "He thinks he can fuck with me…he still thinks I'm just a fucking nobody…"

"Heath listen," Cat tried to get his attention to shake him out of his brooding fury. "Calm down, it's alright. I'll go to the meeting with Haven- I'll tell Edgar and his lawyer that I don't want anything from him but the divorce, and that'll be the end of it."

"No, you listen to _me_," he snapped back at her, "We're _both_ going to that meeting. We're both going, and you're going to tell Linton and his fucking lawyers that you don't want a damn thing from them but a divorce, and that after it's final, you don't want to ever hear from him again, do you understand me?" Without any warning, he reached out and grabbed a hold of her arm, jerking to him, hard,_ "Do you understand me_?"

"Yes!" Cat flinched again, "Yes, I understand!" It hurt her for Heath to use that tone with her, and the way that he had grabbed her arm had hurt even more. But even the tone of his voice, or his grip hadn't hurt as much as the look that was in his eyes. She was unused to Heath looking so mean.

At the same, she was still reeling from the surprise of the letter. Edgar wanted to meet with her. Even though she was giving him the chance to walk away from her with no strings attached, without ever having to let her see a dime of his money- he still wanted to meet with her. About what, she didn't know, but it confused Cat all the same.

Suppose Heath's suspicions were true and Edgar still did have feelings for her, and was only using the meeting as an excuse to try and stir trouble up between them. Was it possible that even after all that had happened and all the time that had passed, Edgar's feelings for her still hadn't changed?

* * *

Cat straightened her skirt, smoothing the folds across her lap nervously. She'd already done so only moments ago. Her hair had been smoothed three times, she'd adjusted the fit of her blouse twice, and she'd been fiddling with her fingernails ever since getting in the car.

The tension in the air matched her uneasy demeanor. From beside her in the driver's seat, Heath was strangely silent and withdrawn. His hands tightly gripped the wheel, and his posture was stiff and tense. He looked straight ahead at the road, almost seeming determined to not even glance at her.

For once, Cat didn't mind his distance from her- any attention Heath had given her over the past few hours had made her feel as though he was scrutinizing her, studying her for any sign of anything suspicious or wrong. Now at least, she didn't have to try to hide her uneasiness from him.

In fact, the entire trip from home back to New York had been an unpleasant one. Heath had been short and abrupt, snapping at her at the seemingly smallest provocation. He hadn't slept through an entire night since receiving the notice from Edgar and his lawyers about the meeting. He was plagued by nightmares that made him ornery and nervous. When Cat had tried to comfort him, he brusquely rebuffed her, saying he wanted to be alone.

And then he had started drinking.

Cat didn't know if it had only just begun because of the letter, or if it had been going on longer, but now, more and more often, Heath had begun to drink at night.

A glass of whiskey before bed. Another if he couldn't sleep. If he happened to have a nightmare and wake upset and paranoid, there had started to be the possibility that he would take an entire bottle upstairs with him, keeping it on the window sill beside him as he stared sullenly out into the night.

Cat would lie in bed, pretending to sleep but watching him through thinly slitted eyelids, feeling her stomach plummet in disappointed worry.

She couldn't understand what was the matter with him, why he increasingly seemed so unhappy all the time.

Their dreams had come true. All of them. Henry couldn't hurt them anymore. She was divorcing Edgar. They were rich. And they were together.

They were together. Wasn't all of that enough for Heath? What more did he want?

Cat rubbed her hands against her temples. She'd had a splitting headache for what seemed like days now. It was worse than any she'd ever had before. None of the medication she'd tried to take seemed to help. Ellie had been telling her to see a doctor, but Cat didn't want to go through the trouble. She was almost positive that the headaches were due to the stress and tension that had been between her and Heath as of late.

As soon as she finalized the divorce from Edgar and Heath became his old self again, the headaches would go away, and things could be the way they were when she'd first come to him. Things could be perfect again. They would.

They just had to be…

Heath didn't drop her off at the door of Edgar's lawyers' office. He parked the car and the two of them walked to the entrance together. At first, they only walked side by side, not touching. Then, as they drew closer to the door, Cat felt Heath come closer to her and place his hand just beneath where her elbow met her forearm. The grip was firm and unyielding, as if he thought she would try to break and run away.

Cat swallowed the egg in her throat and looked over at him, making a feeble attempt to give him a weak smile.

Heath didn't return the smile, or say anything, looking straight ahead.

Haven was there to meet them in the lobby.

"Good morning Heath, Cat."

"Where are they?" Heath asked.

"Linton's here already. He'd just waiting for Dixon to get here," he replied, referring to Edgar's lawyer. "It shouldn't be that complicated. We just go in, stick to our position, and reject the offers they make…" He paused, looking at Cat, "Unless, you were thinking about changing your mind-"

"She isn't." Heath said firmly. "We don't want anything. That's our position, and we're sticking to it."

He and Heath went aside to a corner to talk privately, while Cat went up to the receptionist to ask where the bathroom was.

Inside, she relieved herself, then went to the sink to wash her hands. As she did, Cat looked up at her reflection, pausing to look at herself. She swept back her hair and held in securely away from her face to scrutinize her appearance.

She noticed for the first time that she had seemed to lose weight since leaving Edgar. The bones and facial structure of her face was more prominent, making her skin looked stretched and her expression look worn. There were dark circles underneath her eyelids that the makeup she was wearing did little to cover up.

Cat frowned at what she saw in the mirror. It wasn't that she thought she looked particularly ugly- it was just that she just didn't seem as vibrant looking as she had before.

She looked tired. Very tired.

Sighing exasperatedly, she released her hair and picked up her purse, going towards the door. She was in such a hurry going out that at first, she didn't get a good look at the man she ran into coming out of the men's room from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Oh excuse me, I-"

Cat stopped short, the apology getting stuck in her throat as she looked up.

"Edgar…" she murmured quietly.

At first, Edgar looked just as surprised to see her as she did to see him, then his face relaxed into the same expression of weary sadness it'd held on the day she had left him.

"Hello, Catherine." He said. His gaze briefly flickered over her, "You look nice."

"Thanks…" She gave a weak attempt at a smile, "So do you."

Both of them were terrible liars. Edgar looked like he hadn't slept in days. He still carried his sadness with him like a ball and chain- it had even affected his posture, making his stoop forward, unlike his usual ramrod gait.

"How've you been?" she asked.

He gave a short shrug, "Keeping myself busy with work. Nothing really changes. You?"

Cat paused, trying to come up with an answer. What was she supposed to say? That she had done nothing in the months of their separation but spend time with Heath, go for walks in the woods, and make the occasional trip to the hospital with Ellie and Harry to see Henry (which she hadn't even done in over two months)?

"Oh well I…I've um, been…I've been keeping busy too…you know how it is."

"Yes." Edgar replied, a shadow falling across his face, "I think I do."

Cat winced, looking down at the floor She had to change the subject- she had to make him stop looking at her like that somehow. "How's…how's Isabella and your mother doing?"

"My mother's sick. The doctors say it has something to do with her kidneys."

"I'm sorry." Cat said, "What about Isabella?"

Edgar shrugged again, "I wouldn't know. I haven't seen Isabella for a very long time."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

"She left home. Shortly after you and I…separated. I haven't heard from her since then,."

""But what about her art studio?"

"She gave it up. Sold it."

"But why?"

"I don't know. I tried getting in contact with her to tell her about our mother but she never picks up the phone. I don't think she wants to be found right now."

He was dealing with it all alone, carrying the burden on his own shoulders- again. Only this time, neither Cat or Isabella was there to watch him do it. Cat wouldn't be there to pick up the pieces for him if Mrs. Linton died and he finally cracked. Edgar would be truly alone in his pain.

Cat shook her head, "Edgar…I'm sorry."

He stared at her wistfully, his voice barely above a murmur, "For what, Catherine?"

She knew what he meant. Cat wondered if that was still all it would take for Edgar to forgive her- if she only said she was sorry for what she had done.

She opened her mouth to speak, not even really sure what her reply would be, but then Heath was at her side and she immediately shut her mouth as her heart leapt in her throat.

Heath's arm wrapped around her waist and pressed her against his side, his grip firm and unyielding. "Hello, Edgar." He said, his tone low and guarded.

A flicker of genuine surprise had flashed across Edgar's facial expression at the sight of Heath, then had relaxed into a tight grimace. He nodded at Heath without a word. He locked eyes with Cat again a final time before turning and walking away to where his lawyers were standing.

Heath waited until he had a went a fair distance from them before shifting his grip to Cat's arm, grabbing a hold of it and squeezing it tight. She inhaled sharply, but managed to keep her facial expression composed, gritting her teeth against the pain. She didn't look up at him, but straight ahead of them instead.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked her. His voice stayed level and calm, but the grip he had on her arm made it clear to Cat that he was neither level or calm. He was furious.

"That hurts." She murmured.

"Then answer me."

"I ran into him coming out of the bathroom. It was an accident."

"Don't fuck around with me, Cat." He said, "If you think you can get away with lying to me-"

"I am _not_…" she spoke slowly, raising up her head to look him square in the eye, "Lying. You're hurting me, Heath…let go of my arm."

Heath paused, looking back at Edgar, his lawyers, and Haven, then back at her. Finally, he opened his hand and released his grip on her arm.

Cat looked over and saw Haven beckoning to them to signal the start of the meeting inside a small conference room nearby. She went forward, Heath following her. As they walked, she heard Heath murmur to her, "I don't want to be in here longer than an hour.."

"Heath, there's no way we're going to be able to—"

"One hour, Cat." His voice was like steel. "One."

* * *

They all sat around a wide conference table; Edgar and his lawyers on one side, Cat, Heath and Haven on the other. Heath was holding Cat's hand firmly, while she looked down into her lap, doggedly trying not to look at Edgar, who was sitting directly across from her.

"My client has drawn up a list of items that he wishes to individually go over for negotiation," Edgar's lawyer was saying, "If Mrs. Linton wishes to reconsider her initial position on relinquishing all claims to the property previously owned by her prior to the separation, she need only say so, and he is willing to release them to her."

Haven turned to her, "Cat, are you fine with that?"

She nodded hastily, "Yeah."

"Very well," the lawyer began reading off from a list, "Firstly, there is a Mercedes Benz vehicle that was purchased for Mrs. Linton by my client on their fourth anniversary that was left at their home at the time of her departure. Its value ranges from $40,000-45,000." He looked up at Cat for her answer, and she shook her head,

"No. I don't want it."

"If the vehicle is sold, would you be interested in receiving any of the profits made from the sale?"

"No."

"Alright. Next, we have a condominium in Miami Beach that was purchased by my client during the time of he and Mrs. Linton's marriage. The deed is in both his and her name. Valued at $ 2 million."

Cat shook her head again, "No."

"If Mr. Linton chooses to sell the property, would you want any of the profits?"

"No. He can have it all." Cat murmured quietly. She hadn't counted on how difficult this would be, and the trouble wasn't just coming from rejecting the enormous amounts of money being offered to her.

As the lawyer continued to go down the list of things, and she continued to refuse them, Cat found herself plagued with guilt. She knew how ridiculous it was that she was turning down so much- something on the inside of her clenched each time she refused to accept any of the possessions. Accepting them would have given her money- so much money. Money she could have felt safe and independent with. Money that could have guaranteed her ample comfort for the rest of her life… without taking a single dime of Heath's money.

Besides all that, her own conscience convicted her. She knew how generous Edgar was attempting to be to her in their divorce settlement. It eventually got to the point where Cat almost felt as though she were slapping Edgar in the face in return for his generosity.

Several times, she found herself tempted to at the very least, request to split the profits from certain possessions with Edgar down the middle, with him taking half, and she taking half. But Heath's grip on her hand kept her from acting on that temptation.

Finally, Edgar's lawyer reached the end of the list. He paused, seeming to become uncomfortable. Leaning across his chair, he whispered something to Edgar. Edgar whispered back, and the lawyer seemed frustrated, but turned back to Cat,

"There is one last thing. When you left you and Mr. Linton's home, you left both your engagement and wedding ring on the property. My client wishes to return these things to you if that's alright."

Cat's entire demeanor was strained and rigid. She looked up across the table at Edgar and saw his gentle blue eyes sadly pleading with her again, convicting her like they always had.

"I don't want them." She ground out, "He can sell them both."

"Very well. I suppose this wraps everything-"

He was interrupted, as Edgar abruptly leaned across the table, speaking to Cat,

"Do you really think I could ever sell those things, Catherine? Do you think I could ever bring myself to sell _anything_ we ever shared together?"

"Edgar," his layer hastily said, putting his hand on his arm, "Let's not-"

Edgar shook his hand away, "Catherine, what is going on here? What's the matter with you? Why are you doing this?"

Cat's swallowed the egg in her throat, sitting very still in her chair, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. You know_ exactly_ what I'm talking about! Let me help you. You think I don't know how much money it's going to take for you to look after Harry and Ellie? To look after Henry?"

At this, Haven broke into the conversation, "As I have repeatedly reiterated to you and your counsel, Mr. Linton, my client doesn't wish to accept any form of-"

"I'm not talking to you." Edgar said coldly, "I'm talking to her."

His lawyer tried to talk to him in a low voice, "Edgar, she said she doesn't want anything now just-"

He too was cut off as Edgar snapped at him,

"Dixon, shut up, I don't care what she said! Catherine, listen to me: please take something- anything from all of this. And if you won't take any of the things, then at least let me give you some money. We both know you need it."

Cat couldn't bear to look him in the eye anymore and averted her gaze down to her lap, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't need your money Edgar."

"Why not? Why are you doing this? Catherine, why won't you let me take care of you?"

To the surprise of everyone at the table, a new voice entered the conversation,

"Because she doesn't need you to take care of her- not anymore."

Cat looked up, startled at the sound of Heath's voice. Her heart beat sped up in a matter of seconds as everyone looked at him. No one spoke for a few moments, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

Edgar's eyes were locked with Heath's and Cat didn't think she'd ever seen him so angry before.

Turning to his lawyer, he asked tersely, "What is he doing here?"

"Edgar, let's just-"

"No!" Edgar snapped sharply, "I want someone to explain to me what the hell he," he pointed at Heath, "Is doing here! What the hell are you doing here?"

Cat broke in, knowing she had to try to assuage him before things got out of control, "Edgar, please it's not a big deal-"

"Stop it, Catherine!" his voice rose in frustration, "Just stop it!" He stood up from his chair, pointing his finger, "I let you drag him into our marriage for five years-for five years, I was married to both you _and_ him. Can't I even get a fucking divorce from you without involving him in it? I've had enough, do you understand me? _I've had enough_!"

Cat tried to stand up from her chair, but was only jerked firmly back into her position by Heath's tight, unyielding grip. He sat very still in his chair, saying nothing, his face a mask of absolutely guarded calm as he looked up at Edgar.

"Edgar," Cat tried again, "Calm down, just-"

"No!" he shouted, cutting her off, "I said no, goddammit! I want him out of here!" he turned to his lawyer, "Dixon, I want him out of here, get him the fuck out of here, right now!"

Heath laughed then, gentle and mockingly, flashing his teeth, "Maybe you should sit down. High blood pressure's not good for your heart, given your family's history."

"Heath!" Cat turned to him in disbelief. She was stunned at the cruelty of his words, but before she could say anything else Edgar was seething,

"You pompous son of a bitch," Cat didn't think she'd ever seen him so furious. He shoved off the grip of his lawyer, who finally sat back in his chair, rubbing his head in weary embarrassment. "Who the hell do you think you are showing up here to_ our_ meeting? I don't give a damn if she's living with you, she's still my wife, you hear me? She's still _my _wife!"His voice cracked with angry frustration.

But Heath's smirk only deepened, still staring back at Edgar mockingly as he tilted his head, "Your _wife_? Is that what you think she is? Your _wife_ belonged to me before she even knew your name."

"Heath stop it!"

"Mr. Cliffe, why don't we keep our rhetoric above the—"

But Heath disregarded both Cat and Haven, continuing, "She thought about _me_ on your wedding day. She thought about _me_ every single time you fucked her. Every time she came with you it was because she was thinking of me, because she was wishing it was _me_ fucking her instead of some pathetic, weak-"

Before he could even finish, Edgar instantly swept the papers and files that were on the table in front of him and Dixon off the table in one enraged swipe. Before anyone could stop him, he had dove across the table, tackling Heath to the ground. Cat screamed his name and frantically leapt forward, her and Haven reaching to pull Edgar away. They didn't have to though. Within seconds, Heath had managed to shove Edgar away from him with a powerful blow that sent him reeling back against the conference table. Cat and Haven held him back while Edgar's lawyer helped him up, keeping a firm grip on his arm.

Edgar shakily wiped the blood away from his lip, panting, "I want him out of here, Dixon!" he shouted, "Get him out of here!"

Heath was only slightly flustered. He straightened his blazer and smoothed back his hair, giving a harsh laugh, "He doesn't have the authority."

Haven spoke up quietly, "Actually Heath…he does."

Heath turned to him, "What do you mean?"

"Technically speaking, only Edgar and Cat have a legal right to be present for this meeting. In certain cases, exceptions are made…but if Mr. Linton objects-"

"Yes," Edgar broke in, "Mr. Linton does object! Get the hell out of here!"

"What about Cat?" Heath asked, ignoring Edgar, "She should have a say about this. She wants me to stay."

Haven looked over to Dixon, who hesitated, "Mrs. Linton?" he asked, "What do you think?"

"She wants me to stay!" Heath snapped at him.

"Let her answer for herself!" Edgar retorted.

Heath only smiled at him again, taking ahold of Cat's arm, "Tell him, Cat." He urged, "Tell him you want me here."

Cat opened her mouth to speak, but to her surprise, nothing came out. She literally couldn't find the words to say. The room went silent, the eyes of all the men falling upon her expectantly.

Heath's brow crinkled, "Cat," he said, his voice slightly terse, "Tell him. Tell him you want me to stay."

"I…I…"

Edgar spoke to her, "Catherine, look at me. Look at me!"

When she managed to raise her eyes to his, he continued, "Don't let him do this. You know that this is only between you and me. I have a right to do this with you alone…you owe me that much."

Heath broke in again, his voice angry and sharp. "Shut up! She doesn't owe you anything!" He gave her arm an impatient jerk, "Cat, tell him you want me here. _Tell_ _him_!"

She winced, still feeling the sting of Edgar's words, "Edgar…I can't-"

"Yes you can!" Edgar said, "You tell him the truth, Catherine. Tell him the truth."

She hesitated for another long moment, still trying to find the words to say.

Cat knew that she was supposed to tell Edgar, tell everyone there that she insisted upon Heath staying in the room. That was her first instinct, her natural one. She loved Heath. He was everything that mattered. He was a part of her. There shouldn't have been any reason for her to side with Edgar over him, not one.

But there was a reason.

It was the same reason that had kept her awake at night lately, thinking of the look on Edgar's face when she had left him, the same reason she had been hesitant to even begin with the divorce proceedings, the reason that she hated refusing to accept a single thing he was offering her in the settlement.

Her guilt.

She was guilty because she knew that from the first day they had met, Edgar had been nothing but good to her. Better than good, in fact. The fact that she had never done a single thing to even try to deserve it only made Cat feel worse.

This would probably be the last time she ever saw him again, the last time they would ever speak. After all the years, all the pain she had put him through, even if she refused to take anything from him, the least that she could do was allow him to end their marriage without having Heath stand between them- as Cat had always allowed him to before.

Edgar was right. She did owe him that much.

Mustering every bit of her courage, Cat turned to look up at Heath, murmuring just above a whisper, "It-It'll only be for a…a few more minutes."

Heath stared at her, "What do you mean? Cat, what are you saying?"

"Will you…will you wait for me outside? Just for a few more-"

His eyes widened in genuine, angered disbelief, "You're siding with him." It was a statement, not a question. He released her arm roughly, as if touching her had soiled his hand, and took a step away from her.

Cat immediately closed the gap between them, placing her hand on his arm, "No, no I'm not. I'm just trying to do the right thing so we can just get this over with and go home."

"You're siding with him." He repeated, his voice hard and unforgiving.

She shook her head emphatically, "No! Heath please…_please_ don't make this out to be more than it is. You heard Haven, he said that legally you can't be here if- Heath, wait! Heath!"

Before she had even finished speaking, Heath had shoved her hand away, whirled around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Cat rubbed her finger tips over her temples, feeling the splitting headache begin to return, even stronger than before.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room until Haven cleared his throat, "Well um…maybe it would be best for all concerned if we just finished this up as soon as possible."

Dixon was gathering together the papers that Edgar had pushed to the ground, "There are some papers I have for you to sign, Mrs. Linton. They state that following this meeting and the finalization from your divorce, you agree to never make any attempts in the future to take my client to court for any form of financial compensation or spousal support."

Cat nodded, "Alright. I'll sign them."

She sat back down at the table as Dixon placed a stack of papers in front of her. Haven handed her a black fountain pen and she leaned forward to sign them. Suddenly, Edgar leaned forward, putting his hand over hers gently,

"Wait." He murmured, then looked at the attorneys, "Give us a minute, will you?" He waited until they were gone to speak, sitting down beside her. Cat looked down doggedly at the papers, swallowing the egg that was still stuck in her throat,

"Catherine. Please look at me."

She shook her head, "That's not going to work, Edgar." she said, struggling to keep her voice level, "You can't talk me out of this."

"I know that."

"I love Heath, you understand? I love him more than anything. More than I could ever love you."

"I know that."

"And… and he was telling the truth. I _did_ think of him of when I was with you. Every day we were married, I thought about him. I wanted him. I always will."

"I know that, Catherine."

"If you know all of that, then why are you doing this? Why can't you just hate me, forget about me? Just let me go, Edgar; let me go!"

He gripped her hand then, hard, "I _love_ you," he said thickly, "Catherine, I love you more than anything in my life. I can't let go of you and throw you away like you're some piece of garbage. You're my wife."

"No I'm _not_-" she said weakly.

"Yes, you are. You're my wife, and no piece of paper or legal agreement will ever be able to change that for me. I gave you more than just a ring on our wedding day, Catherine. I gave you a vow; I vowed to love and take care of you until the day I died. You expect me to be able to just walk away from that like it suddenly means nothing?"

"It does!" she suddenly snapped out impatiently, yanking her hand away from his, "It does mean nothing now!"

He shook his head, "I don't believe you."

"Well, it's the truth. Weren't you listening? I don't need you to take care of me anymore. You heard Heath; he's-"

"He's what?" Edgar broke in, the beginnings of anger piercing his voice again, "What is he doing, Catherine? Taking care of you? I don't think so. You can lie for him to everyone else, but not to me."

"He _is _taking care of me," she insisted, "He bought back the Heights, the land, the house, everything! The house is completely remodeled, he had everything replaced. He's making more money than ever."

"But what about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"You said how he's taking care of the house, the Heights and the land. How is he taking care of _you, _Catherine? Just you." He reached out and smoothed back some of her hair in that similar gesture he had done so many times before, "Are you happy? Are you safe?"

Cat bit her lip and averted her gaze from him, "Yes." She said stiffly.

He shook his head sadly, "You've always been such a terrible liar."

"I am happy. You've never known me, Edgar. You've never known what makes me happy."

"Maybe that's true, Catherine, but I do know one thing, and that's when you're lying. You've never been able to hide it from me."

Cat steeled herself, determined to keep her composure, "I don't need your help, Edgar. I want you to leave me alone."

"No you don't."

"I don't?"

He shook his head steadily, "No. If that's what you really wanted, you would have insisted that Heath stay here."

"That was just pity."

But Edgar only shook his head again, "No, it wasn't." There was something in the tone of his voice then that kept Cat from disputing with him, so she stayed silent as he went on, gently pulling his fingers through her hair,

"You don't look well, Catherine. You've lost too much weight and you look exhausted. You're very scared and worried. Now of what, I don't know, but I do know that whatever it is, Heath isn't doing anything to help those fears and worries go away."

"Stop it, Edgar-"

"I know you're going to sign those papers, Catherine. I know you're going to walk out that door with him and never expect to see me again. I know nothing I could say or do would keep you from doing that, so I won't try to stop you. I just want to ask you to do one thing."

"What is it?"

He moved his hand to her cheek, "Remember that I love you. Just remember that. I love you. That won't change, no matter what happens."

Cat placed her hand over his and tried to move it away, but he wouldn't let her.

"And if you need anything, whether it's money or…anything else, I want you to call me, Catherine. Just call me if you need help."

"Well I don't," she said, her voice sounding frigid and brittle, "I don't need your help."

"But if you do," he pressed, "If you do need my help for anything, then I want you to let me know, Catherine. Please tell me that you'll let me know."

Cat didn't say anything for a while, still looking away. "I have to go now, Edgar." she finally said in reply. "I have to go." She leaned forward and began signing the papers, one by one. When she was finished, she stood up from the table, walking towards the door.

"Catherine."

She paused, her hand on the knob. She turned her head to look back at him.

"I know you love him…but don't let him destroy who you are for that love."

"He wouldn't hurt me." Cat said, "He would never do anything to hurt me, Edgar."

When she left the room, Haven was waiting outside in the hallway, but Heath was nowhere in sight, "Where is he?" she asked.

"I don't know. He wasn't here when Dixon and I left the room. Do you need me to help you find him?"

Cat shook her head, "No. I think…I think I'll just go around to his place. If he didn't go there to cool down, then he's probably just out somewhere else and he'll come home when he's… better."

"At least let me give you a ride-"

"No. Thank you, but no. I um…I just need to be alone for a while. I just need some time."

He nodded, "I understand." He reached out his hand to her, and she took it, "I'm very sorry about all of this, Miss Ernshawl-"

"Please." Cat pulled her hand out his grasp, "Please don't do that." She had stood for a lot that day, but she just couldn't stand to hear him apologize to her for it. She couldn't take that too.

It was raining out when Cat finally managed to get a cab to take her back to Heath's apartment. She felt apprehensive and even a little scared as she put the key into the lock and went inside.

There was no one there, and she couldn't help but feel relieved. She went over to the bed in the corner of the room, stepping out of her heels and lying down on her side. She reached underneath the pillow to hug it to her body, but stopped short when she felt her fingers brush against something. Cat sat up, lifting the pillow to see what was underneath it.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

Little packets of white powder were littered across the sheet where the pillow had been.

Cat had never done drugs before in her life, but she'd seen enough of them in Henry's room when they were kids enough to be able to recognize heroin when she saw it.

She looked up, startled, as her heart began beating faster at the sound she heard.

The door to the apartment was unlocking.


	50. Chapter 50: Secrets

_A/N: Hello again, all. Checking in for another update. Now, I'll be honest with you guys, I'm not crazy about how this chapter turned out. I spent a lot of time thinking about how to write it, and when I finally did, I still wasn't completely comfortable with the result. As you know, we're approaching a very prickly point in the story and my thoughts as to how to portray it often get conflicted. But, I'm well aware that I've kept everyone waiting for far too long for this update, so I just decided to go ahead and post it anyway. Hopefully it's not too bad._

_Also, I've started a little website for The Heights and any other stories I may plan to do in the future. It's just a place where I can reply to your reviews, post any detailed authors notes, display the Actor/Actress Images for The Heights, as well as the Photoshop art I make for it. What's more, it's also a place where you can talk to me about the story. So visit it if you're interested. It's the Homepage link in my profile._

_And hey! Fifty chapters, I can't believe it! Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing The Heights all these years, I SO appreciate it. Keep giving me your feedback/reviews, because I'll need them more than ever in the upcoming chapters, plus it just really brightens up my day to see that people are enjoying the fruits of what I enjoy to do more than anything in the world. Peace lovelies,_

_Jess_

**Chapter Fifty: Secrets**

Cat immediately replaced the pillow over the drugs, laying back down just as the door opened and Heath came inside the apartment. He stood by the door after shutting it, watching her from across the room in silence.

Cat slowly sat up in bed, swallowing hard. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She was sure that he could hear how hard and loud her heart was beating.

He began walking across the room towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Not- not long," she murmured, "I just…thought I'd wait for you here." She didn't dare ask where he had been. Cat didn't even think she wanted to know.

"Everything settled now?"

She nodded, "Yes. It's over…really over now." She shook her head, "Heath, I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything to that, only looking down at her in that gaze that she couldn't decipher.

That didn't deter Cat though. She reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing it desperately, "I swear that none of what happened meant anything to me. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wasn't choosing Edgar over you, I swear to God. Please say you believe me."

Heath didn't answer, only sitting down beside her on the bed. He touched her hair, then her face, stroking her cheeks with a feather-light touch, "You're trembling."

"Are you angry with me?" she asked, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking or feeling.

Again, he didn't answer her question, only continuing to gently smooth his fingers over her cheek, "Things have been tense between us lately, haven't they?" he asked.

A little caught off guard by the question, Cat tried to stammer out a reply, "No…yes…well…maybe a-a little…"

"It's alright," Heath said, "You can tell the truth. They have. And I'm not going to pretend that none of it is my fault."

Cat didn't know how to respond to that, so she said nothing.

"I know I've been distant." He went on, "I know sometimes it seems like I'm shutting you out."

"Heath, it doesn't matter-"

"No, it does. It does matter." He said. "We've been through too much together to let all that we have fall apart." Heath tipped her chin upwards a little, "We belong together. That's all that should matter, isn't it?"

Cat frowned, searching his face. "Y-yeah…" she murmured, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Why didn't he seem angry at her? He had been only an hour ago- he'd been so furious at her she'd been able to feel it emanating from his body.

But at that moment, nothing about Heath's behavior or expression suggested he was angry about anything. It wasn't like him, at least it wasn't like he had been like when they were growing up. When Heath had been angry about something when they were teenagers, he had brooded and sulked over it for at least a day or two- especially if he was angry about something involving Cat. She had always been able to get under and stay under his skin in the past.

Which was why it seemed so strange to Cat that Heath seemed so completely calm then. It was like he was almost_ too_ calm…

"You know what I think?" he was asking her, "I think we should get married."

Cat was too stunned to even think of a reply at first. Not just because of the enormity of the subject, but because of the sheer unexpectedness of it and the sharp contrast it struck against the day's events. She stared at him, dumfounded.

"Married?" she murmured, "You- you want us to get _married_?"

Heath nodded smoothly, "Yeah. Why not? We love each other. We have our home back. And you're finished with Linton. It makes sense that that's what should do."

"Heath," Cat began mildly, "I-I don't-" she paused, nervous at the direction she could feel her words going, "I mean, I…we never talked about doing something like…getting married…not even when we were kids."

Heath shrugged, "So what? That was then- this is now. And now, I think it would be a good idea for us to get married."

"But my divorce isn't even final from Edgar yet," she continued, "I still have to wait a few more weeks until-"

"So we'll wait a few more weeks," Heath cut in, "None of that matters. In the meantime we can get a license and set a date."

Cat was finding it harder and harder to hide her unease. The fact that Heath didn't seem angry at her was confusing enough, but now that he'd abruptly come back and started talking to her about marriage at such an almost ridiculous time was beginning to slightly disturb Cat. She couldn't make sense of all these changes she could see manifesting in him all at once.

First had come the drinking, then Heath's being away from home and never telling her where he went. He'd started her divorce proceedings and had consultations with Haven without even speaking to her about it. Then had come the sleepless, sulking nights he spent at the window as he shut her out of his thoughts and feelings. Then there had been discovery of the heroin only moments ago, and now this.

This wasn't like the Heath that she knew. This wasn't anything like him.

Heath frowned at the troubled expression on her face, "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice slightly sharpened,

Cat shook her head, "I just…I don't understand _why_. I don't see why do we have to do this now. I don't think-"

He placed his fingers over her lips, stilling her words, "You don't need to be thinking about anything. You're still upset. You're still confused…but I'm not. And I know what's best for us right now."

Cat was upset. And she was confused. But she still thought that she should have had _some_ say in what Heath was proposing. Didn't he care how she felt about any of this?

"Is…is this what you really want?" she asked in a small voice.

Heath took a hold hands, and she felt the way his grip tightened around them "I want _you_, Cat." He answered, "I want you in every way I can have you… I _love_ you."

Cat felt a sharp tug in her belly at the way his voice changed at his last words. The way he said them, and the way he began to look at her almost reminded her of the way he had been when they were younger. That same unreserved passion was in his eyes, the one that made her feel like she was the only person in Heath's world.

"I love you too," she whispered. All she could think of was the heroin underneath that pillow. Against her will, she could feel the desire to cry creeping back on her.

There had never been any doubt that she and Heath loved each other. Ever. Their love for one another was so strong and unbreakable that it should have been perfect.

But there had always been something. Something to mar and prevent their love's perfections.

In the beginning it had been Henry's interventions. Then it had been Cat's selfishness. And now, now it seemed that it was Heath's secrets and bitterness that threatened to drive a wedge between the two of them.

Why was there always something that stood in their way? Would they ever reach a place where they could just love each other, be together, and be happy?

Cat could feel her eyes becoming hot and gritty. She was grateful when Heath leaned forward to kiss her and she could shut them.

After he kissed her, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her to him, holding her in a tight, crushing grip.

"I will do anything to keep you," Heath muttered thickly into her hair. He almost sounded as though he were speaking his inner thoughts aloud, "I won't let anyone or anything take you from me…"

Tears were silently running down Cat's cheeks, "I know that." She whispered back, her voice choked with emotion. Her arms were around his neck and she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Cat inhaled deeply, taking in Heath's scent. For a moment, she felt comforted, recognizing every element of the aroma that belonged to him.

But suddenly, her comfort was stopped short, as another smell entered her nostrils. Cat sniffed deeper, then again, as if to try and convince herself that what she had thought she smelled initially had just been her imagination.

No. It was real. It was there, hanging on him along with the other smell of the outdoors and strong soap.

Perfume, She smelled a woman's perfume.

A perfume that didn't belong to her.

Cat shuddered and closed her eyes tightly, as if shutting out the world around her would make the horrible, unspeakable thoughts in her mind disappear…

* * *

"He's got to go, Mrs. Deene." The nurse was talking to Ellie in private in the hallway outside Henry's hospital room, her voice sympathetic, but firm. "We've been letting Mr. Ernshawl stay here far longer than is normal for patients in his case- but now, he has to go home."

"But the psychiatrist's diagnosis," Ellie protested, "You saw the report yourself- even he said that Henry's paranoid and afraid that someone is going to hurt him. He even admitted that he was suicidal- that must be grounds enough to admit him into the psychiatric ward!"

"The patient has to indicate that he is a serious danger to himself, Mrs. Deene. The doctor from psych obviously didn't think that Mr. Ernshawl's paranoia was to that extreme."

Ellie was massaging her temple wearily, looking down at the floor, "You don't understand," she murmured, "I don't think he'd _let_ me take him home…"

"He's still an invalid, Mrs. Deene. He's in no position to take care of himself, not anymore. I don't think he has much of a choice in the matter. Now, I'm sorry, but the doctor's going to sign his discharge papers tomorrow morning, and you'll have to take him home." She paused, "Either you can tell him, or we will."

Ellie shook her head, "No. No I'll tell him."

She went back inside the room, looking first as Harry, who sat by the window, looking outside, then at Henry, who was laying on his back in the bed, staring bleakly at the ceiling as usual. The feeding tube still protruded garishly out of his nostril- the doctor had said that Henry would probably have to use it for the rest of his life to get the proper nutrition to avoid starving to death.

"Henry," she said, approaching the bed, "I just spoke to the nurse…they're discharging you from the hospital tomorrow. You're going to have to come home."

"No."

She sighed, "Please, Henry. You know I understand why you don't want to, but there's just no other-"

"No." She heard the tremor in his voice. He turned his head towards her, and Ellie could see the glassiness reflected in his eyes, "You hear me, Ellie? I said no. I won't go back there. I can't."

"Henry you can't stay here and hide in the hospital forever. I know you're still sick, but you're getting better- and you can get better still at home."

He laughed; a broken, empty sound, "'Home?' Is that what you think it is? You really think I still have a home?" He clenched his teeth as he said, "I don't have a home anymore, Ellie…I don't have _anything_."

She looked at him sadly, "Is that what he told you? Is that what he's really made you believe?"

When he didn't answer, she reached out and laid her hand over his, squeezing hard, "You listen to me, Henry Ernshawl: you have a home. You have a son. You have your life. You have a reason to keep that life. No one can take any of that away from you. And nothing that Heath says or does can change that, do you understand? _Nothing_."

Tears were streaming down Henry's eyes. "He's going to kill me if I go back to that house, Ellie," he whispered, "I'm dead if I go back there! I'm dead!"

She was shaking her head, "No, listen to me- listen! I swear, on everything that I love, that I won't let anything like that happen to you. I won't let him hurt you, Henry. I won't!"

"You don't know," he muttered, his voice still thick with his tears, "You don't know him…"

"Yes, I do." She said grimly. "I do know him, Henry. And I don't care: he won't hurt you. I promise you that."

He began to cry, soft, frightened sobs, "I'm so scared," he whispered, "Oh God, Ellie, I'm so fucking scared…"

Ellie looked across the room at Harry, who was staring at his father through empty, emotionless eyes. She wondered if he would be telling Heath about this scene tonight when they returned home. And for the first time she began to wonder if Heath's thirst for vengeance really would drive him to try to kill Henry….and if she could really do anything at all to stop him if he did.

"It's alright Henry," she murmured to him faintly, "Everything will be alright." The words tasted like a lie as they rolled off her tongue. Ellie didn't want to think about whether or not they really were or not...

* * *

Cat couldn't stop thinking about the heroin. She couldn't stop thinking about the perfume.

They tortured her throughout the day and long into the night. Her mind had come up with a hundred different explanations as to what was happening.

At first she'd tried to tell herself that the heroin didn't belong to Heath, that it was someone else's. But then she'd begun to think about who he could know that was doing heroin, and the thought that he was associating with people like that, (people she didn't know) disturbed her.

The possibility that Heath was doing drugs was one of the worst conclusions she'd considered coming to. The thought of him holed up in some bathroom, shoving drugs up his arm with a syringe was enough to make her sick. He had never been the type to be addicted to anything when they were young, especially not something like heroin. He'd never even expressed an interest in trying it.

The two of them had come across a joint of Henry's once before when they were still in high school. When Cat suggested they smoke it (just once, to see what it was like), Heath had flushed it down the toilet, saying he didn't ever want to hear her even talk about doing something like that again. Ever.

He'd sounded so vehement, so emphatic about it, that Cat had agreed and put aside her curiosity to try drugs.

That Heath would now be taking heroin after all that just didn't seem real to Cat. It didn't make sense.

Then there was the possibility that he was selling the drugs- this made more sense to Cat. It would also explain where Heath had suddenly gotten all of the money to buy back and remodel the house and the Heights and pay off all her bills. But knowing that that may have been where he got the money didn't make her feel any better- it made her feel worse. That Heath would resort to illegal means of making money just to win her back made her worried about just what else he was willing to do to get what he wanted- what else he may have been doing in addition to selling the drugs…

But even her fears about the drugs weren't as bad as Cat's fear of the source of the perfume she'd smelled on Heath. What she felt about the smell of that perfume went beyond fear.

She wracked her brain for an explanation, _any _explanation but the most obvious one.

She'd imagined the smell of the perfume.

It was just the smell of a new cologne he had on.

Heath had been on a subway, and just happened to be close to a woman with very strong perfume- a woman who was a complete stranger.

Cat was willing to believe anything, except the one, unspeakable possibility.

That the cologne did belong to a woman- a woman he knew. A woman who wasn't a stranger. A woman that he'd…that he'd…

No. That was one thing that would never happen- _could_ never happen.

Maybe Heath was acting differently. Maybe he did know someone who was using the heroin she found. Maybe he was doing it himself. Maybe he was selling it. As difficult as it may have been, Cat was prepared to accept all of those possibilities.

But infidelity…

That was one thing that she could never prepare herself to accept or believe. Nothing could have prepared her for could have made her reconcile herself to it.

Heath would never be unfaithful to her. He would never do that. Never.

For all that she thought about her worries, she still didn't dare confront Heath about any of them. Cat didn't know if her hesitation came more from a fear that he would be angry at her for asking and tell her nothing, or more from an even greater fear that he wouldn't be angry and tell her something she didn't want to know. Either way, her fears consumed her.

Heath noticed it. The entire way back home, she could tell that he noticed the way that she was distant and frigid, that something had set her on edge. His mood seemed light and better than it had been of late, and he talked to her in promising, warm tones of the preparations they would have to make to get married- picking out a ring, setting a date, going away together for a honeymoon, But even through all the talk, despite his improved mood, Cat could tell that he suspected something was wrong. More than once she caught him staring at her, as if trying to read her mind and decipher what it was that she was thinking.

Cat did her best to pretend that she was alright- that she was more than alright, that she was happy, even thrilled at the prospect of her divorce from Edgar being final and the two of them planning to get married. She tried harder than she'd ever tried at anything in her life.

But the truth was that she was scared. Scared of what she felt inside, and even more scared at what she saw happening on the outside between her and Heath. This pretending, this veil of pretense between the two of them was becoming thicker and thicker. It was clear that there were many things that Heath had seen fit to hide from her, and Cat herself had begun to try and mask her emotions and feelings from him. For things to have come to the point where they were no longer honest with each other was what worried Cat the most- she and Heath had held nothing back from each other when they were young- how much longer would it take for them to begin to hold back everything?

It was late into the night when they finally returned back to the house and the Heights. Heath pulled the car up the gravel driveway, but didn't turn off the engine. Cat turned to look over at him, her voice almost wary as she asked,

"Aren't you coming inside?"

He shook his head, "Not yet."

The 'why' was just on the tip of her tongue, but Cat didn't let it escape. Instead she just nodded numbly, mumbling, "Fine."

She stood in the driveway and watched him drive off down the hill and back into the woods, shivering in the cool air of the night. Finally turning around, she climbed the steps up to the porch and went inside the house.

The light in the kitchen was on, and Ellie had already begun coming down the hallway towards her as she came inside.

"Cat, I have to talk to you." She said.

Cat had already begun to climb the stairs. She suddenly felt so exhausted and tired. All she felt like doing was curling up in a ball in bed and going to sleep forever. Her head was throbbing with the old headache again, making her head feel as though it weighed a ton. "Not now, Ellie." She said dully.

"Yes, now." Ellie insisted, following her up the stairs, "This is important. The doctors at the hospital think Henry's well enough to be discharged tomorrow,"

Cat shut her eyes with a sigh. As if she didn't have enough to worry about. "Is it s recommendation, or an order?"

"An order. They won't keep him there anymore. He's got to leave. Now look, I know what you're thinking, I know bringing him here would be complicated."

Cat gave a soft, mirthless chuckle at that, "Complicated," she repeated drily, "Yeah, you could say that." There was no telling what kind of tension and strife they'd be inviting back to the house if Henry were to move back in here with Heath. He made no secret of the fact that he still despised her brother. Cat had begun to think that Henry's illness brought him a bitter sort of satisfaction.

"But listen, Cat," Ellie was saying, "I have an idea. I suddenly remembered that you were going to New York for the divorce negotiations with Edgar. I thought that maybe you'd let me, Henry and maybe Harry stay in one of the houses or apartments you got from the settlement with Edgar. We could stay there and we wouldn't be any trouble to you or-"

Cat stopped when she reached the top step, turning around to face Ellie, "What? What houses or apartments?" she asked, "What are you talking about?"

Ellie looked confused, "I thought that Edgar would have let you keep something. At least one of the houses…the vacation homes…at least the house in the Grange-"

"Ellie," Cat interrupted, "I didn't take any of the houses from Edgar in the settlement. I didn't take anything."

Ellie stared at her, "What do you mean? He really wouldn't give you any of the property, any money-"

"He offered. But I refused it. All of it."

"_What_?" She breathed, stunned, "Cat…how could you do that?"

Cat bit her lip, trying to ignore the growing pit in her stomach at seeing Ellie's chagrin. "Because I didn't need to take anything from Edgar."

"Bullshit!" Ellie snapped, closing the gap between them on the steps and taking a hold of Cat's arms, "Cat, you and I both know you wanted to take that money- we both know how much you needed it! How could you not take anything from Edgar- especially when he was offering it to you? What's the matter with you?"

"I didn't need to take anything from him, Ellie." She repeated.

"That's a lie, Cat. It's a lie and you know it. Why did you really do this? Why?"

Cat wrenched herself out of her arms and strode towards her and Heath's bedroom, "Because I didn't need it." She ground out, her voice trembling.

But Ellie was right on her heels, catching the crack in the door before Cat could slam it shut in her face, "He told you to do it. Heath told you to turn everything down, didn't he?" she demanded. When Cat didn't answer, she shook her head, infuriated, "You stupid fool. You stupid, _stupid_ fool! Don't you understand what you've done? To yourself, to me, to Henry, to all of us?"

"Get out!" Cat ordered, pointing at the door. It was too much- all of this was becoming too much for her to handle. She had to get Ellie out of the room before Heath came back, before she lost her own composure.

"When are you going to realize what this is all about? When are you going to see him for what he really is?"

"Get out of here, Ellie!"

"He's trying to own you!" Ellie shouted back at her, "Can't you see that? If you don't have a job, if you don't have any money of your own, then you can't take care of yourself! You can't take care of me, or Harry or Henry! You don't own this house, you don't own this land, you don't even own the clothes you're wearing! He's trying to make all of us completely dependent on him so that he can do whatever he wants to us, and you let him! You deliberately played right into his plan and now we're all-"

"Shut up!" Cat suddenly shrieked, lunging at her and pounding on Ellie's chest with her fists. Tears of rage and frustration streamed down her cheeks as she screamed over and over again "Shut up, shut up, shut _up_!"

It wasn't true. None of it was true. She wouldn't let it be true. Just like she wouldn't let the possibility that Heath was doing drugs be true. She wouldn't let him selling the drugs be true. She wouldn't let him being with another woman be true. Cat wouldn't allow any of this to be true. If none of it was true, then none of it could hurt her.

There was another explanation- for the drugs, for the perfume, for all of it. There just had to be another reason that this was happening. Anything but what Ellie and her fears tried to make her think.

Ellie caught a hold of Cat's wrists to thwart the blows, holding her arms down by her sides. The fight taken out of her, Cat suddenly felt dizzy- the room was spinning and the blood was rushing to her head. She dropped to her knees, still crying.

Ellie knelt down beside her, taking Cat into her arms. She laid out across Ellie's lap, curling up tight into herself.

"Cat..." Ellie called her name, but she didn't answer. She couldn't speak through her tears.

"Cat, tell me what's wrong. What happened?"

The question only made her cry harder. She cried for a long time, and even when her sobs subsided, she remained quiet, staring miserably into space.

Finally, she told Ellie all of what had happened in New York- of the divorce negotiations, finding the heroin at Heath's apartment, smelling the perfume on his clothes.

When she finished, Ellie was silent at first. Finally, she asked, "And you haven't said anything to him about any of this?"

"I can't," Cat whimpered, "I just can't. I don't even know if he'd tell me the truth. And even if he would tell me the truth, I don't know if it's something I'm ready to hear."

Ellie shook her head, "Cat, you can't just sit back and let him have something like heroin lying around. If it's found here by police, all of us could be at risk."

"We don't know that he's keeping it here," she said, "I've only seen it at the apartment in New York."

"That doesn't mean he isn't keeping it here. You can't keep quiet about this, it's too dangerous. We have to call the police-"

"_No_!" Cat immediately sat up, "We can't ever do that! Ever, do you understand?"

"Cat, he's breaking the law," Ellie said, "You're really going to just sit back and do nothing?"

"And what are you suggesting I do, Ellie? Call the police? Have him arrested? You really think I could do something like that to him? I love him, Ellie. I love him! What's the matter with _you_?"

"Cat, some things are more important than love."

Cat stood to her feet and went over to a window, looking down into the darkness, "No, they aren't," she murmured stubbornly, "Nothing is more important than that. Not to me."

"And is that how you think he feels? Cat, he came home to you smelling like another woman! What does that tell you about how Heath feels about love?"

She whirled around, "I don't know _where_ that smell really came from- it didn't have to be from another woman! Maybe I was imagining it, maybe I'm just being paranoid!"

"If you really believed that, then you wouldn't be so upset." Ellie replied evenly, "You know what your first instinct told you, Cat. You know what it's still telling you now."

Cat could feel her eyes watering again. She turned back to the window, "No." she whispered, shaking her head, "No. He's not with another woman. He _isn't_."

For a long time, neither of them said anything, then Ellie said, "Henry's still got to leave to the hospital, Cat. He has to come here."

Cat nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, "I'll tell Heath when he comes back."

"What do you think he'll say?"

She shook her head, "I don't know..."

After Ellie left, Cat took a shower and climbed into bed, rolling onto her side and hugging herself tightly, as if to try and disappear beneath the covers.

She wasn't surprised that Heath still hadn't come back after more than an hour had went by. She tried not to think about where he was and what he was doing…and if he was with someone else. She tried not to think about anything.

It started to rain, not hard and not slow- just a steady, lulling pace that eventually made her drowsy. Cat was in the place between sleep and awake, when she sensed the door to the bedroom being opened and shut. Slow, heavy steps fell across the floor of the bedroom, then stopped when they reached her side of the bed.'

Cat waited, not sure what to expect. Finally, she cracked her eyes open wider. Heath stood there, looking down at her strangely. His arms hung down at his sides and his clothes and hair were wet from the rain outside, but that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the lost, forlorn look in his eyes, like he was a child that had run away and wanted to come back home.

That look in his eyes made Cat's insides wrench, and she sat up in the bed, "Hi." She whispered.

"Hi." Heath whispered back.

For a long time, neither of them said a word. Then, Heath reached out and touched her face, hesitantly. That was when Cat noticed the tremor in his hand. That, and how cold it was, how cold Heath was.

She couldn't bear the look in his eyes anymore. No matter what she suspected or rather was too afraid to suspect, he was Heath. He was Heath and she was Cat, and that was something that nothing and no one could ever change. Something that made anything worth everything.

Cat gripped Heath's hand and used it to pull his down to her. Their lips met and hers melted beneath the pressure of his. She kissed him soothingly, as if to tell him silently that everything would be alright between them, that she did and always would love him regardless of anything that he could ever do- the way that she knew he had always loved her.

She pulled him into bed with her, uncaring of how wet his hair and clothes were. Soon enough, she was helping him pull them off, then aiding him in pushing up her worn nightgown and wriggling out of her underwear. It was an awkward, fumbling process. There almost seemed to be a heartbroken desperation to it all, but neither Cat nor Heath seemed to care. There only seemed to be a sudden but urgent need to forget themselves and the weighty burdens of their minds in one another's bodies.

Cat clenched her limbs around Heath tightly as he thrust himself in and out of her. Tears were swimming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." Heath was mumbling into her neck, "I'm sorry…"

Cat shut her eyes then, a shuddering sob escaping her lips. She bit her lip hard to keep anymore from surfacing, to stifle them down deep into the pit in her stomach.

Somehow- just somehow- she knew what it was that Heath was apologizing for. And it wasn't for the painful way he was fucking her either.

She knew that there was only one thing that he could be so sorry for that he was crying…

"I love you…I love you…" Cat said over and over again, her tears peppered in between the words.

It was all she could say. What else was there for her _to_ say? That she understood? That it didn't matter? That she forgave him?

She couldn't say those things to him. Not when she didn't know if they were really true.

When he was done, Heath rolled off of her and onto his side of the bed. Cat remained where she was, her body cold and rigid.

The two of them lay side by side, not touching or speaking. The pitch blackness of the room made the silence between them all the more thick and heavy.

The tears continued to fall down Cat's face, the sobs softly wracking her body. She just couldn't stop crying.

Cat flinched as she felt Heath's hand reach out and touch hers, pulling her to his side. She didn't resist him, wrapping her arm around his torso. It wasn't until she felt the wetness on his face against his that she realized that he was crying as well, silent tears that streaked across his cheeks.

They didn't speak for the rest of the night, only holding onto one another as they cried themselves to sleep in each other's arms...

Cat was the first to wake up the next morning. Gently, very gently so as not to wake him, Cat gingerly slid out of bed. She dressed herself, then went into the bathroom to wash her face.

Just as she was tying her hair into a loose braid, she she heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway outside. At first she wondered who it could be, then suddenly remembered that today was the day that Ellie had said Henry was supposed to come home.

She hadn't told Heath yet. Henry was coming, and she hadn't told Heath.

Cat looked out the window just as the cab pulled in front of the house. She slipped out of the bedroom and hurried down the stairs outside to the porch, where Ellie was helping Henry out of the backseat.

Cat stopped short when she saw him, wincing a little. Henry hadn't changed much since the last time she had visited him- he was still emaciated and feeble. His skin still appeared grayish and stretched tightly over his bones. The feeding tube still protruded garishly from his nostril.

He still looked so ill…

Ellie was on one side of Henry, supporting him by the forearm. "Come and give me a hand, will you?" she called out to Cat.

Cat nodded and slowly came over to Henry's other side, gingerly reaching out to the take him by the other arm. Henry looked up into her face, giving a weakened attempt at a smile, "Heyyyy Cat…" he murmured, his voice faint and raspy.

"Hi, Henry." She replied quietly. "Are you…feeling any better?"

He gave a small sound that resembled a scoff, "I look like I'm feelin' any better to you, Cat?"

Her eye was suddenly caught at the sight of Harry, trailing a few feet behind them, looking up at his father with what even she could see was thinly veiled scorn.

As she and Ellie helped Henry come closer to the porch, the front door opened, and Heath strode outside, He stopped at the top of the steps, blocking their way into the house as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, well." He said coolly, "What have we here?"

Cat immediately felt the way Henry's body tensed up at the sight of Heath, and she heard the sharp intake of breath he took into his lungs.

Ellie spoke up, "Henry's been discharged from the hospital."

"I can see that, Ellie."

"We've brought him home."

"I can see that too."

She sighed impatiently, "Well, then can you please get out of our way so we can take him inside and upstairs?"

Heath gave small, tight smile. Cat didn't like it. "How do you know that's what Henry wants?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"How do you know Henry really wants to live here?"

She frowned, "What is that supposed to mean? Of course he wants to-"

"Did you ask him?"

"What? No! No, I didn't ask him, but-"

"Then you don't really know if he wants to live here, do you?" he asked matter of factly. "You should ask him first."

Ellie glared at him exasperatedly, "Whatever game you're trying to play with this is ridiculous, Heath. Get out of our way and-"

"I said…ask him first, Ellie." He said, his voice hard and unyielding, "Do it."

She waited a few moments, but finally spoke, "Henry…do you want to live here?"

Henry was looking up at Heath as though he was a prisoner looking at his executioner. Cat didn't think she'd ever seen him look so tired or defeated. He nodded silently, bowing his head as he did.

Heath nodded as well, "Alright…then he can beg me."

Ellie immediately broke in, "He can _what_? Are you crazy? No one's going to beg you for anything, Heath!"

But Heath only smiled wider, "Oh, I think he will, Ellie. A man with nothing can always beg for something."

"You can't make him beg to live in his own house! You-"

"Well, this house isn't_ his_ anymore, is it? It's mine. Every inch of this place is mine. And if he wants to live on it, then he's going to have to beg for it."

Cat had been quiet up until that point, but she suddenly felt the need to speak up. She couldn't deny that she understood why Heath would feel the desire to be vindictive and even triumphant over Henry in his suffering.

She understood it…but she didn't have to agree with or like it.

"Heath," she said, "I don't think this is the right way to-"

"You stay out of this, Cat." It wasn't the words that made her obey him- it was the tone that had been in his voice. He had spoken to her like she was nothing but a servant, or a child that he was hushing without a second care or thought.

Ellie meanwhile, was seething, "Henry's not begging you for anything!"

"Yes, he will."

"No, he won't!"

"P-please…" Everyone turned to look at Henry, who still hadn't taken his gaze off of the ground as he spoke, his voice raspy and faint, "Please…I'm b-"

Ellie shook her head vehemently, "No! Henry, don't you feel like you have to do this! You don't have to!"

Henry said nothing in reply to her. His jaw was quivering. Cat looked closer at him, and could see the glassy sheen reflected in his eyes. The hand of the arm she helped to support was clenched so tightly the skin looked pure white. She knew she was witnessing what was the last of his pride withering away before her eyes.

"I'm…begging you…" he whispered. "I'm _begging_-" his voice cracked then, cutting off abruptly. His head dropped to his chest heavily, as if saying words had sucked the strength out of the muscles in his neck.

Ellie seemed close to tears herself while Cat stared at her brother and felt a hollow pit forming in her stomach.

If only Heath didn't look so satisfied with Henry's humiliation…

If only Henry didn't look so frail and helpless, so completely beaten…

Then maybe she wouldn't have felt so guilty- as if just being there to witness his humiliation made her somehow responsible for it.

Ellie looked back at Heath angrily, "Are you satisfied now?" she demanded, "Can we please just take him to bed to rest?"

Heath smiled back at her evenly, "Yes. You can take him to bed now." He waited until they had approached a few more steps before adding, "But it's not going to be in the house."

"What do you mean?" Ellie asked, "Where else are we supposed to-"

"In there," Heath nodded behind them in the direction of the Heights. "He can have the room above the garage."

For a long moment, both Ellie and Cat stared at him in dumbfounded silence. Only Henry seemed unsurprised, looking at Heath like a condemned prisoner facing his executioner.

"You…you can't be serious." Ellie finally managed to say.

"Do you think this is a joke, Ellie? I said he can live here-but it's going to be in the room above the Heights."

"Heath, Henry had acute pancreatitis," she said slowly, as if still in disbelief of what she'd just heard, "He almost _died_. He's still very sick. The room above the Heights isn't heated anymore. It's not heated and it's the middle of the autumn. For God's sake it'll be winter soon! If he stays there, there wouldn't be anyone there to make sure he's alright. He'd be all alone."

Heath didn't blink an eyelash, "And what part of that is supposed to be my problem?"

Ellie let out a sharp, incredulous breath, then turned to look at Cat, "Are you just going to stand there and let him do this?" she asked her, "You're really going to let him treat your brother this way?"

Cat swallowed the egg sized lump in her throat, "Ellie…" she murmured weakly, but before she could say anymore, Heath cut in,

"She's got nothing to do with it. This is my house. This is my land. If Henry wants to live on it, then he's going to live how I want him to live, or he won't live here at all."

"He is not going to live here like some kind of animal that's here for you to torture, Heath!"

The smile still hadn't left Heath's face, "Then he's not going to live here."

The two of them stared one another down for a few more moments, before Ellie squared her jaw, "Fine." She said, "Then he'll live somewhere else. We all will. Harry!" she called out to the little boy as Cat broke in, placing her hand back on Henry's arm,

"No!" she exclaimed, "Ellie, wait, please don't go!"

"He's not going to get away with treating Henry like this, Cat, do you understand me? He can't _do_ this!" She looked around for Harry, who was standing behind a nearby tree, "Harry, c'mon, we're leaving."

"He's not going anywhere." Heath immediately said, and sure enough, Harry stayed rooted in his hiding place. "If you want to go with Henry somewhere else, then good riddance. But Harry stays here."

"If you think that you can-"

"I _know_ I can." He said. "And he knows it too. Ask him, Ellie. You ask him if he really wants to leave."

Both Cat and Ellie looked down at Henry, who was looking across the lawn at Harry, who still stayed behind the tree. Cat saw the look in Henry's eyes and knew in an instant that what Heath had said was true. Her brother wasn't going anywhere. He would stay here and endure Heath's harsh punishment of revenge.

All for Harry's sake. All because he couldn't bring himself to leave his son.

Ellie realized it too. She looked back and forth between Harry and Henry, a sadness withering the resilience in her face only moments ago.

"C'mon, Henry." She murmured to him gently. "C'mon." She began guiding Henry away towards the Heights, moving slowly to accommodate his pace.

Cat stood there, deliberating as to whether or not to follow them. As if he could read her thoughts, Heath called out to her,

"Cat, come here."

Ellie turned her head to look back at Cat, her gaze accusing. _Don't do it,_ it seemed to say, _Don't you dare do it…_

Cat looked back at her guiltily, then back in Heath's direction, obviously torn as to what to do.

"Come _here_, Cat." Heath repeated, more emphasis in his voice than before.

Cat cast Ellie one final gaze of remorse, before turning around climbing back up the porch steps to stand beside Heath. He wrapped his arm around her waist, firmly holding her close to him.

The two of them watched Ellie and Henry go towards and inside the Heights. Heath seemed satisfied and content, while Cat felt as though she wanted to throw up.

His face was against the side of her hair, and he kissed her temple gently. "Stay away from him," he murmured in her ear, "Don't talk to him, don't see him, don't have anything to do with him. Do you understand?"

Cat blanched, "He's my brother-" she started to say, but was cut off as Heath abruptly tightened his grip on her waist,

"Do you under_stand_?"

"…Yes." She whispered.

"This is for every time he kept me away from you, Cat. For every day and night we had to spend apart because of him. I'm doing this for the both of us. I promised you I would- remember?"

Cat did remember. She thought of that night beside the lake when Heath had promised her that he would repay Henry for every bad thing that he had done to him. Had Heath been planning, waiting for his opportunity to do this even then?

His grip on her had relaxed, and Heath used his other hand to turn her face towards him. He kissed her, then pulled her against his chest, holding her close again.

"I don't want to give him the chance to ruin anything else for us. I won't let him do that again."

Cat wanted to ask him how Henry could possibly ruin anything for them when he had pancreatitis and Heath owned the land he lived on, but she said nothing, looking out numbly across the front lawn. Her eyes met with Harry's and held his gaze for a long time.

If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought that it was pity that looked back at her in her nephew's eyes…


	51. Chapter 51: Ravages of Time

_A/N: Guys, I'm sorry for my absence. I'm a full-time college student with two jobs and close to graduation, so...yeah, that's my excuse. Not that I think you're interested in any of that, but it is the reason that I don't get to update that often. Please don't think that it's because I'm giving up on this story. That just won't happen. If you just be patient with me, I guarantee we WILL get through this thing_

_-Jess_

**Chapter Fifty One: Ravages of Time**

Cat waited until Heath left on one of his mysterious errands that night to go to Ellie.

She knocked softly on her bedroom door, but there was no reply. The door was already cracked however, and she was able to push it open and come in.

Ellie had a suitcase open on her bed that she was folding and placing clothes inside. She didn't turn around, although Cat knew that she heard her come into the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked, "You're not…you're not leaving, are you?"

"I'm moving into the Heights with Henry," Ellie replied, her voice clipped and short. "I'm not letting him stay there alone. He needs someone there to take care of him."

"But what about Harry?"

"He won't go with me, Cat. You know that. He doesn't want to go anywhere near Henry. Besides, he's getting bigger now. He's a smart boy. And he never gets into any trouble. He doesn't need me."

"Ellie, yes he does," she insisted, "Harry does need you- he loves you."

Ellie gave a small, sad laugh, shaking her head, "No he doesn't, Cat. The only person Harry loves is Heath. And if Heath has his way, then he'll probably be the only person Harry ever loves. It's how he can control him."

"Please… please don't talk like that, Ellie." She said quietly.

"Why not? Because you know it's the truth? I'm not lying and pretending for you anymore, Cat. If you want someone to help you keep living out your fantasy then you'll have to let Heath do it. I'm done with all of that."

Cat winced, unable to meet her eyes, "You don't understand." She murmured.

Ellie shook her head again, "You're right. I don't understand. And you know something Cat, I don't want to understand anymore. I hope I never understand what it is that's made you do this to yourself and all the people who really love you."

"Heath loves me, Ellie."

Ellie scoffed, "If that's what you really want to call it."

"That's what it is. You don't know him, you don't understand. All of this mess with Henry…it's just because he's still bitter about what Henry did to us when we were kids."

"And that automatically excuses what he's doing? What he's done?" Ellie demanded, "How can you stand there and defend this, Cat? What's the matter with you?"

"You don't understand," Cat repeated. She hated saying it over and over again, and especially to Ellie. Ellie, who had always been the one person besides Heath who had understood and accepted her in the past.

But not this time…

"I can't turn my back on him, Ellie…I can't abandon him again."

"Is that what this is all about, Cat? You still feeling guilty for what you did to him in the past?" She sighed, closing the suitcase, "Stop living in it. Let it go. Don't let him hold that guilt over you for the rest of your life. Don't hold it over yourself. The past is passed. All you can do now is live for the future."

"Heath_ is_ my future, Ellie. He's the only future I have."

"Then I guess we don't have anything more to talk about." She picked up her coat from the bed and slun it over her forearm, picking up the suitcase with her other hand, "Goodbye Cat."

"You talk like you're going away to another place," Cat said stiffly, "It's right next door, Ellie, not a thousand miles away."

Ellie gave her a faint, wistful smile, "Is it?" she asked before walking out of the room without another word.

* * *

"Call her, Edgar."

Edgar stared out the window of his office dully, watching the snow fall as he held the cell phone up to his ear.

"Please. Just call her."

He shook his head, his voice thick and strained, "I can't do that, Ellie."

"Yes, you can. I know that you're hurting, Edgar. I know she did you wrong. But she needs your help, do you understand? Cat needs you so badly now."

He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath at the mention of her name. Even then, just the sound of that name could make the feelings he'd been trying so hard to bury for months rise up within him all over again as if they had never left.

"She has Heath," he said quietly, "She doesn't need me anymore."

"That's not true," Ellie said, "He's changed. Even worse than what he was before."

"What do you mean? Has he done something to hurt Harry?"

"No, no," she said, "Harry's…Harry's fine. Heath's never mistreated him. It's Henry I'm worried about."

"He's thrown Henry out of the house, Edgar, he's made him live in the garage. Henry barely gets enough to eat. He has to bathe in the lake in the forest behind the house. I've had to use the money from my pension to even be able to afford his medications. It's winter and he has no heat. He shivers and coughs through the night so badly sometimes that he can't sleep. He's just getting sicker every day. Sometimes it's like he never left the hospital."

Edgar listened, stunned, "And Catherine's allowed all of this to happen?"

"She won't object to any of it. It's like she's too afraid to- afraid that if she does say anything, she'll lose him again."

He paused, hesitating for a few moments before asking, "How is she? Has he…has he hurt her?"

Ellie sighed, "He hasn't hit her, if that's what you're trying to ask. I don't see them much when they're…" she paused, "Together. But I know that she's hurting. She's hurting bad. Sometimes in the morning I can tell she's been crying. And there are times when I know it's because of him. He leaves for days on end before coming back when he knows she'll forgive him and they just move on. It's disgusting."

Edgar clenched his jaw, "If she'll really accept all of that, then what makes you think I should do anything to help her now?"

"I'm telling you, she needs your help!" Ellie answered, "No matter how much she loves him, she can't stay with him for much longer, Edgar. She just can't!" Her voice dropped to a low whisper, "I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what he might do. Edgar, I'm begging you: you have to help us! He's brought everyone in that house under his control, and I can't fight him by myself forever. Henry's petrified of him, Cat's blinded by her love and stubbornness, and Harry's been brainwashed into staying loyal to him. Heath's trying to make me leave, I know he is! He never lets me anywhere near Cat alone anymore, and he has Harry spy on me when he thinks I don't notice. I'm not even at home now, I'm at a payphone. I got nervous when I began to think I could hear Harry eavesdropping on the other line."

Edgar was rubbing his eyes with his fingertips wearily, "What do you want from me, Ellie? What do you want me to do?"

"Please…please just call her. I'll tell you a day when Heath will be gone and you'll be able to just speak to her. I just want you to call her and let her hear a voice of reason- she won't listen to me anymore, but I think she'll listen to you, Edgar. I _know_ she will. She loves you."

"...But not enough to leave him. That's always been the problem, Ellie. She'll never love me enough to do that."

Ellie was silent for a long moment before asking, "Do you know why she loves him so much?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, "That's not fair, Ellie-"

"Do you?"

"…No. I don't."

"Because he never, ever, _ever_ stopped fighting for her. No matter what she did to him, no matter how badly he was hurt, he never let her go. That's something he's always known, Edgar. That's why he's always been one step ahead of you. You don't turn your back on the people you love. You just don't. You fight for them. No matter what happens, even if they can't fight for themselves anymore… you just keep fighting."

Edgar was almost completely silenced by her words. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he could see Cat's face again, long after he'd banished the image of it from his mind. He could hear her voice and laughter even after he'd sworn to never think of them again.

If he reached down within himself, he could retrieve the love he'd buried for her all those months ago. He could forgive her once again for breaking his heart in two. He could hang up the phone and dial the number he'd long had memorized, waiting to hear her voice on the other end. He couldtell her he would love her past and through anything she could have ever done to hurt him. He could beg her to come back to him. He could have done all of that.

But he didn't.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I'm sorry."

"Edgar wait!" she pleaded, "Please, don't go! Cat needs you! She needs your help, you can't abandon her like this!"

"I can't." he whispered hoarsely, "I just can't." And with that, he hung up the phone, afraid that if he waited for one more moment he lose the last of his self-respect and capitulate.

Edgar stared at the cell phone on the desk for a long time, fighting the emotions that threatened to wrench and twist him from the inside out.

He couldn't give in. Not this time.

This time, She would have to come to him first.

The sound of the doorbell startled him. Edgar got up from his chair and strode out into the hallway to the front door, looking out the peephole.

A slumped over figure was sitting on the stone steps, hunched in on themselves. A few strands of what looked like dulled blond hair hung out of a worn bandanna.

It was the sight of the hair that made Edgar open the door. When he did, the figure looked up, and he gasped,

"Jesus Christ…Isabella?"

Isabella slowly allowed her badly chapped lips to crack into a smile. Her lip was split in three different places, the scabs forming ugly black crusts over the dried, cracked surface of the lips.

Several of her front upper and lower teeth were missing.

"Hey, Edgar." she whispered, shivering in the bitter coldness of the air, "Long time no see!"

* * *

The two of them were in the kitchen of the mansion, Isabella seated at the table, smoking a cigarette while Edgar leaned against the countertop, arms folded across his chest as he looked at her.

It was like she had aged fifteen years since the last time Edgar had seen her.

She had lost weight. Although Isabella had already been thin before leaving home, to Edgar she looked as though she had lost so much weight that she appeared gaunt and frail.

Dark shadows circled beneath her eyes, and small bags had even begun to gather from within the shadows. The blue eyes that had once been so bright and lively were flat and bloodshot, pink veins sticking out like translucent cords on the whites of the eyes. The rims were reddened, evidence of recent crying.

An ugly bruise colored the temple just beside the right eye; hues of black, blue and purple blended together over a swelled bump.

As he looked closer, Edgar noticed the faint layer of dirt and grime that covered Isabella's face. When he let her gaze sweep down the rest of her body, she saw that her arms and clothes too were covered in the same layer of filth. From beneath the bandanna, her hair looked like dirty, unkempt straw, whereas once it had been full, silky and luxuriously soft.

Edgar had used to think that Isabella had been one of the most beautiful women in New York City, besides Cat. Now, she wasn't even attractive. And as he studied her closer, it became clear to him that his sister never would be again. The damage done to her went beyond the obvious physical assault committed on her. There was a sallowness to her face that had not been there before, a hardness that was stark and bridling. She was almost ugly.

For a long moment, Edgar was literally speechless- unable to form a word. Isabella's eyes immediately averted away from his ashamedly, looking down at the table as she smoked her cigarette. It seemed that she couldn't keep still for a single moment. She made jerky, nervous movements as they sat in silence.

Finally, he asked, "What did he do to you?"

Isabella stared at him, saying nothing at first. An almost bitter smile turned up her lips, "What makes you think he did it?" Edgar didn't answer as she tapped the ash from her cigarette into the ash tray. "Don't worry. It's nothing that I shouldn't have seen coming anyway."

"You expect me not to worry when you look like this?"

"It's none of your concern, Edgar. Don't bother playing the concerned sibling part now. It's not like you care."

"Is that what you really think, Isabella? That I don't care?"

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter. It wouldn't change things. Not anymore." She began coughing- mildly at first, then harder.

"What are you on?" he asked when she finally stopped,

She looked up at him sharply, clearly surprised, "Is it really that obvious?"

He didn't answer. She took a long drag on the cigarette, then exhaled heavily, "Heroin. Some booze. And the cigarettes... just to take the edge off."

"For how long?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"A few months. Just after I left home."

"And he gave them to you?"

Isabella smiled, "Is that how you think it happened? He gave me a fix one day and made me a junkie?"

"Why don't you tell me what happened." he replied, though not even sure if he really wanted to know.

Isabella looked at him for a long moment, then stubbed out her cigarette in the ash tray.

"He was never satisfied. Never. All the fame, all the money he was making from the art- you would think he had every reason to be happy with his life. But he wasn't. Not for one day. He didn't know how to be happy with any of it- I don't think he ever will."

"I didn't know at first if I would ever see him again when she left you," she said. "There were some times when I was sure it wouldn't last between them- but then there were times when I thought that maybe it would. That the two of them would finally get over themselves and just be happy together." she laughed cynically, "Happy...what a joke. All it took was two weeks. Two weeks before I got a phone call. He didn't even ask to see me; just called and said that he would be at a bar a few blocks away from my apartment. He just knew I would be there."

"What did he want?" Edgar asked.

"A way to make money- a lot of quick money." she added, "He'd already decided on drugs as a way to get it. He just needed a place to stash them- somewhere that wouldn't attract much attention or suspicion from the police."

"And you gave it to him?"

Isabella nodded grimly, "I took out a lease on an apartment on Staten Island. It's in a neighborhood full of widows and retired doctors. People who don't even know to notice anything like that. Everything went off without a hitch for a while. He had a few people that would pick up and drop off the drugs, lackeys he paid to do the dirty work." She shook her head, "Edgar, he's...he's just so _smart_. I never realized how smart he is. He knows how to do all of this without the risk of getting himself into any trouble. His name is completely clear. But he makes all the real money."

"How did you get involved?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. It just happened. I was around the stuff all the time. I was alone so much. And I was depressed. About you, about Heath and Catherine, about myself. I'd heard that it made people feel good- that it made all the problems disappear. I swear, it was only supposed to be that one time. But it just...it just didn't work that way. I started craving it all the time. I needed it- to feel good, to not feel depressed, to pretend that I was happy for a while. You can pretend anything when you're high," she chuckled sadly, "Then it's over and you're staring at reality straight in the face again, until you can get to your next one."

"Does he know you're addicted to it now?"

Isabella looked up at him, "Know? He _helped_ me get addicted. I never had to pay for anything. Every hit was free. At first I thought he was a fool- then I realized what he was really doing. He wanted me hooked on the drugs. He wanted me dependent on him. That's how he knows he'll always be safe- as long as I can get the drugs, I'll always make sure he can keep making the money. No matter what, he wins."

Edgar reached out and touched the side of her face that was bruised, "And what about this? Are you going to tell me the drugs did that too?"

Isabella pulled away from his touch, "No." she said tersely, "No, that happened because I don't turn into Catherine every time he comes to fuck me."

"She's with him now," he said, looking confused, "Why would it bother him that-"

"Don't you get it yet?" she asked him impatiently, "Heath being happy has _nothing _to do with being with his Catherine. She _can't _make him happy- no one can. He's always going to be miserable, and he's going to make everyone suffer for it: me, Catherine, Ellie..." she looked at him again, "You."

"Me? What more could he do to me?"

Isabella stared at him for a long moment, "You don't really think that just because she left you he's forgiven you, do you?" She shook her head, "He'll never forgive you for loving her. He'll always hate you...he'll always hate both of us for that."

Edgar shook his head ,"Why didn't you come to me before?" he asked quietly, "Why didn't you say anything-"

"Say what?" she interrupted, "That I'm living with a dealer and becoming a drug addict? Is that what you would have wanted to hear?"

"If that's not what you wanted to tell me, then why are you even here? What's the point of saying any of it?"

At that, Isabella suddenly fell very quiet. For a few moments, she said nothing staring down into her lap as the ash on the end of her cigarette grew longer and longer.

"Isabella?" he called her name, "What's wrong? Just tell me what happened."

He saw moisture glistneing in her eyes as she whispered, "I'm pregnant, Edgar."

Edgar's eyes widened in horror, and was stunned into his own silence. For a long time, neither of them said anything. Isabella stubbed out the now useless cigarette and lit another, while Edgar backed away from her, placing a hand to his forehead and stroking it wearily.

Finally, he managed to speak, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm ten weeks late. I bought a pregnancy test. I'm pregnant."

He closed his eyes, "Ten weeks...and is it...is it His?"

Isabella nodded, "He's been the only one."

"Does he know yet?"

She shook her head, "I don't know how to tell him. If he found out..." she shuddered, "I don't even want to think about it. He'd want me to have an abortion before risking Catherine finding out."

"Don't you want to have an abortion?" Edgar asked, hoping that she couldn't detect the hopeful tone in his voice. As much as he hated to admit it, he found himself actually siding with his enemy about how to handle the situation.

It was bad enough that Catherine had left him, but Edgar just didn't know if he could bear this. To have to be bound to Heath forever in this way- to have a niece or nephew that he would always have to look at. A child that could be the spitting image of Heath...

He couldn't do it. Not that.

Isabella was looking at him strangely at the question, "Wh-why would I want to do something like-?"

"Why?" Edgar scoffed in disbelief, "Isabella...look at you!You're a heroin addict, you can't have a child. It could be born with defects, low birth rate, it could still die-"

"I don't want an abortion, Edgar." she said, "I want my baby."

"You're in no condition to care for a baby right now: look at how you're taking care of yourself!"

She winced a little, but replied, "I can quit the drugs and the booze. I know I can."

"No, you don't know that for certain!" he snapped back, "And for all you know, it may be too late to quit by now."

"And you don't know that it isn't!" she retorted. "Don't ask me to do that, Edgar. I can't get rid of my baby."

"'Your' baby?" he repeated, "It isn't just your baby, Isabella: it's Heath's! It's his baby: do you really want to bring anything of his into this world?"

"Yes!" she suddenly shouted back at him, "Don't you see? This baby is everything- if I have it, then I'll finally have power over _him_! I'll be able to make him do anything I want!"

"Power?" Edgar exclaimed, "What are you talking about?"

A fervent, but almost desperate smile came to her lips, "Do you know what would happen if Cat found out about this baby?" Isabella asked quietly, "Do you know what she'd do?"

Edgar was silent for a few moments, then said, "She wouldn't leave him. She would never do that."

"Really? Are you sure?" When he didn't answer, she asked again, "_Are_ you?" She gave a soft chuckle, "You know he'd do anything to keep her from finding that out- _anything_."

"You're really going to use your baby as blackmail against him?" Edgar shook his head, "Don't do this to yourself, Isabella. It won't give you what you want."

She smiled at him tightly, "Don't be so sure."

"He won't love you for trying to trap him."

She laughed harshly, "You think that's what I want to do now? After all that's happened? I'm not that stupid, Edgar. I gave up on Heath loving me a long time ago."

"Then what do you want? What is all of this for?"

"What is it for? It's for this, Edgar!" she pointed to the bruise on the side of her face, "It's for this!" she savagely stubbed the cigarette out into the ashtray, then began rummaging in her jacket pockets. She pulled out a dirty, bent metal spoon, "And this!" A syringe was next, "And this!" Finally,she pulled out several tightly wrapped pebbles of heroin, tossing them on the table, "_All_ of this!" Her voice cracked then and she covered her face with her hands, beginning to cry softly.

Edgar came around the island counter and drew Isabella to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she wept.

"I can't do this anymore, Edgar," she moaned, "I can't keep hating him and loving him at the same time...I can't!"

"Shh. It's alright. It'll be alright."

"I don't have anymore money. I spent it. I spent so_ much _money on...on-" she cried even harder. She hugged him tightly, hanging on as if for dear life, "Edgar, you have to help me. I don't have anyone else...you have to help me!"

He sighed into her hair, "Don't worry." he murmured, "I'll take care of this. I'll take care of all of it."

He felt her breathe a heavy, ragged sigh of relief, "Thank you...oh God, thank you..." she cried for a little while longer before pulling away, drawing her hand across her tear stained face to wipe the moisture away, "So we can come and stay here with you?"

Edgar frowned, "'We'?" he repeated, "What do you mean 'we'?"

"Me and...the baby." she replied, "You said you would take care of-"

"I meant the abortion!" Edgar broke in, "I'll pay for your abortion," He looked at her in disbelief, "You didn't really think I meant-"

"I don't want an abortion!" Isabella burst out, "I told you, I want to keep my baby!"

"I'm not going to let you keep a baby just so you can have a bargaining chip with Heath!" Edgar snapped, "I don't want you to have anymore to do with him much less-"

"It doesn't matter what you want!" she retorted hotly. She jabbed her finger into her chest, "This is _my _baby, and it's none of your business what I want it for!"

"If it's none of my business then you would have never come here! You never would have come to me for help! I'm the one who can help you, Isabella. I'm the one who loves you, and I'm telling you to get an abortion!"

"And I'm telling you no!" she yelled back, the tears resurfacing in her eyes, "I'm keeping it- it's mine. No one can take it from me, do you hear? Nobody!"

Edgar was holding his head in his hand, shaking it back and forth,"You don't understand," he muttered, "You just...you just don't get it. If you have this baby, it'll ruin everything._ Everything_!"

She looked back at him defiantly, "Ruin everything for who, Edgar? For me...or for you?"

His eyes flashed, "What the hell does that mean?"

"You don't want me to have an abortion for me," she spoke with slow realization, "You want me to have it for you- because you can't stand for it to be born..."

"That's not true-"

"The hell it isn't!" she spat back, "Just admit it- stop being such a fucking coward and admit it!"

"Alright!" he suddenly shouted, the anger and frustration he'd been feeling since his conversation with Ellie finally rising to the surface of his temper, "It _is_ for me! I can't watch you have that baby. I can't watch it grow up in this house and touch the things that are mine. I can't help you raise it knowing that it's any part of him! I've had to endure everything else, but I will not- I will _not_, endure that, Isabella! Not for you, not for anyone!" he came to her, taking her hands in his and squeezing them tightly, "Now you are my sister. I love you. I want to take care of you. I will do whatever else it takes to make you better and make you safe. But if you keep this baby...if you go through with this..." He shook his head, "Then you're not welcome here. Ever."

Now it was Isabella who seemed in disbelief, "You would turn your back on me...just because you hate him?" she murmured.

Edgar shook his head, "No. Not just because I hate him...it's because _he _hates _me._" He touched her hair, "And I can't watch him try to find a way of using you and your child to hurt me someday. I can't."

The tears were streaming down her face again, as she whispered "Okay...okay..." She shut her eyes as the sobs welled up in her throat, "I'm sorry, Edgar...oh God, I'm so sorry!" she collapsed against his chest again and he held her as she wept.

"I love you," he said over and over again into her hair, "I love you so much..."

When she had stopped crying, they walked together to the front door in silence. As he opened the door, Edgar winced against the bitter cold of the wind outside, then cast a glance at Isabella's thin jacket.

Without another thought, he reached into his pocket and took out a stack of bills. Removing the diamond clip that held them together, he pressed the entire stack of money into Isabella's hands, closing her fingers around it as their eyes met.

"If you change your mind," he murmured, his voice thick and ragged with emotion, "If you change your mind..."

But she shook her head, "Then...I guess this is goodbye."

Edgar's own eyes had become glassy, "Isabella, please-_please_ don't do this-"

Her fingers lightly rested over his lips to hush him. She rose up a little on her feet and pressed her lips against his cheek.

"I love you, Edgar." she whispered. Then without another word, she went outside and down the cement steps, walking away down the sidewalk.

Edgar came outside and watched her until she had went all the way down to the corner. She paused to look back once- then in another moment, she was gone.


	52. Chapter 52: Fault

_A/N: I'm really not expecting too big of a response to this update. Let's face it, it's been damn near six months. But, I'm updating anyway, because hey, I don't quit something I start, and I am still in love with this story. Hopefully there are still a few of you out there who are still too. Thank you to those who do review. You rock. -Jess_

**Chapter Fifty Two: Fault**

A sudden, thumping sound made Ellie stir awake from her slumber. Her eyes fluttered open and she gently shifted her body back and forth on the hard, uncomfortable mattress. She shivered a little in the cold, drafty air of the room above the Heights, curling her body into itself tighter for warmth. Her eyes closed again as she began to drift back into sleep.

Then she heard the sound again, this time louder than before. She heard a rough voice swear angrily.

At the sound of the voice, her eyes opened and she sat up in the bed, this time more alert. She looked across the room where the only other bed in the room was stationed.

It was empty.

"Henry..." she murmured to herself, then called out his name, "Henry? Are you alright?"

There was no answer, so Ellie threw the thin covers back and got up from the bed, sucking in a sharp breath as her feet hit the cold floor. She hugged her arms around herself tightly as she went to the stairs leading down to the auto garage, following where she had heard the sound come from.

"Henry? What are you doing out of bed? You know if you had to use the bathroom you could have..." Her voice trailed off as she came down the stairs and looked into the auto garage.

She first saw the drum barrel that had been knocked over. A broken bottle of Jack Daniels was lying near it. Several other smaller and larger bottles of gin and whiskey, still intact, were scattered around it.

Henry was sitting on the ground in a corner, panting heavily. He sat with one leg thrown out in front of him, the other tucked into his groin. His right arm rested on the extended leg, the inside of the arm bared. He clutched a syringe poised just over the skin of where his elbow met his forearm.

His eyes met with Ellie's and held for a long time. He looked at her with a grim wariness, his breathing uneven and labored. Ellie didn't move from her spot at the last step, her mouth agape in horror.

When she could finally speak, she had to fight to keep her voice from trembling, "What are you doing, Henry?"

He didn't answer, and she came forward, stepping around the broken glass and the other bottles to come over to where he sat in the corner. "What...are you _doing_?" she repeated more firmly.

Henry shook his head, "It's nothing." he muttered.

"Nothing?" she cried, "Is that what you call this?" she snatched up the syringe and flung it away across the garage, "Is that what you call those?" she jabbed her finger at the alcohol. "What the hell are you trying to _do_, Henry? If you really want to kill yourself then why don't you just rip out your feeding tube?" She knelt down and grasped his torso to help him, "Get up," she ordered angrily, "Get up, and get back into bed!"

"Just leave me be, Ellie." he said, his voice dull and listless "Stop trying to save me."

The words struck her to the core, but she wasn't about to allow him to see that, "Be quiet- just be quiet and get up! If you could get up and risk stopping your heart just to shoot whiskey into your veins then you sure as hell can get up to get back in bed!" She shook him by the arm hard, "I said _get up_, damn you!"

All of a sudden, he gave her a rough shove that she hadn't expected him to even be strong enough to give, yelling, "Stop it! Just stop!" She saw the moisture glistening in his eyes as he whispered again, "Please... stop."

Ellie shook her head, "Not unless you tell me where."

"Where what?"

"You don't have any money, Henry. There's no way you could have been able to afford all this alcohol. Who gave it to you?"

Henry hung his head, "I stole the money." he said quietly.

"No, you didn't. Tell me the truth. Where did you get this?"

He didn't speak again, but he did raise his head to look at her. His eyes spoke volumes.

Ellie's eyes narrowed, "You mean he-" she cut herself off, pressing her lips together tightly. After a short pause, she reached out to Henry again, "Come on," she said, her voice like steel, "You're getting back into bed."

Although he had become somewhat stronger than he had been when he first left the hospital, Henry was still weak, and after some stumbling and struggling around, Ellie managed to help him back up the stairs and back into the hard, uncomfortable army mattress.

As she pulled the thin, ratty sheett over his frail body, she paused for a moment, looking down at him. She just couldn't believe that the ill, gaunt man in the bed had once been the tall, robust young boy she'd lived with, cooked for, cleaned after and taken care of, "I don't understand, Henry," she murmured, "How could you let him do this to you?"

Henry was looking back at her sadly, "Because there's no use fighting anymore, Ellie. Can't you see that yet? There isn't." his own voice dropped to a whisper, "He's won."

Ellie shook her head again, "No, he hasn't." She reached out and gripped his chin with her fingers, "You listen to me," she said firmly, "I know that things seem very bleak for you right now. I know that you think that your life has ended and that you'll never be able to fix the things that you ruined. I know that you've lost all your hope. But I'm telling you Henry, it is never, _ever _too late to do the right thing- just as long as you're still alive. I know that you still know how to do right. I still believe that you will. "

He was quiet for a long moment, before replying, "Then you're wrong."

But she shook her head, "No, I'm not." she said, "And even if you can't do the right thing, I can. And I will."

* * *

Cat was up well before dawn. She had been sleeping less and less lately. It wasn't that she was never tired or weary. She avoided sleeping because she wanted to avoid the dreams that she had been having; terrible nightmares where all of her worst fears came true.

On the nights that Heath was home, she stayed laying awake in bed, staring into the darkness as she became lost in her own thoughts. On the nights (and days) like this one when he wasn't there, she would go out for long walks or runs in the fields and plains surrounding the property. She walked or ran for sometimes hours, losing herself in her thoughts to the point where she lost track of time or anything else she wanted to temporarily forget about.

She dressed herself quickly, putting on some loose fitting shorts, an old t shirt of Heath's and some gym shoes. As she sat down before the mirror to pull her hair back into a ponytail, she stopped short, looking at herself.

Her cheeks were drawn, and her face was bordering on appearing almost gaunt- even more so than the last time she had bothered to really take a good look at herself in the mirror- which she couldn't even remember when that had last been. Cat knew that her drastic weight loss was probably due to the running combined with her appetite that seemed to decrease more and more. None of her clothes fit her well anymore and she had taken to wearing sweatpants with drawstrings to even be able to dress herself. She could have went out to the city to buy new ones at any time, but she just didn't feel like it now.

Cat turned away from the reflection. She didn't want to continue to look at the girl in the mirror. If she did, she would have had to acknowledge that she was the girl with the gaunt, drawn face, the girl with the hair that had begun to gray at the temples, the girl with the empty eyes. She didn't want to acknowledge any of that. It had just become easier for her to stop seeing herself completely.

Outside, she stood on the porch, pausing for a moment to close her eyes. She breathed in the scent of the morning air, listening to the sounds of distant grasshoppers and birds. Even then, after so many years had passed, the sounds and smell of her home hadn't changed. Those small, familiar things that she took more and more notice of were some of the only things that Cat found herself taking comfort and a small measure of peace in anymore.

She couldn't go to Ellie like she could as a girl to discuss and share her problems. Not anymore. Ellie busied herself much of the time with taking care of Henry and Cat didn't want to see Ellie, because seeing Ellie meant seeing Henry- and that was something that she just couldn't do. Heath had forbidden her from even being near Henry, and even on the days that Heath was gone, she still made sure to keep her distance. She found herself plagued with guilt when even thinking about her brother. The defeated look that had been in his eyes the day that he returned from the hospital continued to haunt her, even months later. Even worse was the nagging sensation Cat had that she was to blame for everything that was happening to him, and that she should have been doing something to help.

She couldn't talk to Heath about her depression and angst either. Not anymore. Not when he was so sensitive now and took everything so personally. Cat knew that if she even raised the subject of her being unsatisfied about the smallest thing, then he would immediately take it as a sign that she was unhappy with him, which would inevitably begin another argument. If what happened during those times could be called arguments, anyway.

What had begun as disagreements between Cat and Heath in the past had now become nothing more than opportunities for Heath to launch into a tirade against her for what was sometimes the smallest offense.

The Cat that had grown up in this house would have never allowed anyone to yell at her in that way, not even Heath. Not without putting up a fight. Even the Cat that returned with him to the Heights would have given him back just as good as she got. But one day, when sitting in the window sill of their bedroom as Heath let into her for what he thought was 'looking at him the wrong way,' Cat realized that she wasn't that same girl that had returned with him to this place. She'd simply averted her gaze away from Heath and closed her eyes, knowing that she wasn't the Cat that had grown up there, doing exactly as she pleased. She wasn't adventurous, daring, or rebellious anymore.

Now, Cat was just tired. Too tired to fight. Too tired to miss that person that she had said goodbye to so long ago.

She descended the porch steps, beginning to enter into a gentle jog down the driveway. As she went further and further, she quickened her pace, until she was running down the dirt path that led into the forest, away from the main road.

When she had gone about half a mile, Cat slowed her pace. She had suddenly begun to feel as though the ground beneath her was uneven and slanted, as if she were running on the edge of a very steep slope, just about to lose her balance. Looking down, she was surprised to see that the ground was straight, smooth and flat.

But the world around her was wavering, and her head felt heavy. Cat came to a complete stop as her dizziness escalated to the point where her vision started to blur. She closed her eyes, raising a hand to her forehead as she stumbled back and forth on her feet until she finally dropped to her knees, panting.

There was an excruciating, intense pain in the center of her head, feeling as though at any moment it would bore through her crown and split it clear in two. She pressed her hands on either side of her temples, as if doing so would drive the pain out of her head.

But it didn't. In fact, it only worsened. Cat gasped and moaned in agony, her eyes squeezed shut as she fell backwards onto the ground. The blood was rushing into her head, muffling her hearing so that all she could make out was a pounding, rushing sound.

Suddenly, there was no sound at all, and even when she opened her eyes there was darkness.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and her body began seizing and jerking back and forth uncontrollably.

Then there was nothing at all, as Cat lost consciousness completely...

* * *

The first thing that she saw when she came to, was that the sky was darkening.

Cat's eyes slowly opened, her vision was still slightly blurred and she blinked and rubbed at her eyes to try and improve it.

She slowly sat up, looking around her, then back up at the sky with a frown.

It couldn't have been evening already. It just couldn't have. Not when she had first come out for her run in the early morning. If it really was approaching the evening then that meant she had been passed out for hours.

No one at home would know where she was or what had happened to her.

It was this last thought that made a lurch enter Cat's belly.

Suppose Heath had come home to find her not there...

She hastily stood to her feet, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that rose in her belly as she did. She swooped her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath. After taking several, she turned back in the direction of the house, her steps slow and unsteady. After she had gone for a little ways though, she managed to go at a steady stride.

Sweat had formed beneath her armpits and was brekaing out in tiny droplets across her forehead. She reached up her hand to wipe them away and realized that her hands were shaking in small, jittery tremors. Cat only kept going though. She had to get home. She just had to get home.

To her relief, she didn't see Heath's truck parked in the driveway of the house. If she hurried, she would be able to take a shower before he returned so he wouldn't be able to tell that she had left. Then she would go back to bed and try to rest and forget about what had happened to her back in the woods, whatever 'it' had been.

She slowly and haltingly climbed the stairs of the house. It was dark inside, but she didn't rush to turn on the hall light, leaning up against the front door.

"Cat?"

Cat gave a small shriek of surprise, startling at the sound of the familiar voice calling her name, "Oh my _God_, Ellie!" she cried at the silhouette standing inside the hall closet door, "What the hell are you doing scaring me like that?" She flipped on the light switch as Ellie came out of the closet.

"I'm sorry, Cat." Ellie said, "I had to talk to you alone and I didn't want Heath to know."

"If you've only come here to cause trouble, you can turn right back around and get back to Henry and the Heights," Cat muttered. The shock was beginning to wear off and the familiar fatigue and dizziness was returning to her head, which was still throbbing with pain. "I can't take anymore of that- not right now."

"Cat, you know I wouldn't even be stepping foot inside this house unless it was important. This is about Henry. And I'm here because if I don't do something, he'll die." She went back into the closet and pulled out an empty glass vodka bottle, holding it out for Cat to see.

Cat stared at it, "Where did you get that?"

"In a drum barrel in the Heights. He's got a collection in it that he's been hiding for I don't know how long."

"How much?"

"Probably enough to kill him in a week if we do nothing." She paused then, frowning as she stared at Cat. "Are you alright?"

Cat was gripping the banister at the foot of the stairs tightly, her eyes shut. A second dizzy spell had started to come upon her, along with the nausea, which she struggled to fight against.

"Cat?" Ellie called out sharper, "Cat, what is it?"

"N-nothing ," Cat said faintly, "It's nothing Ellie."

But Ellie was already touching a hand to her forehead and smoothing the beads of sweat from her brow, "You're feverish," she muttered, "And you're shaking. Here, sit down."

Cat would have tried to fight her, but she felt far too weak. Before she knew it, the two of them were sitting down on the bottom step of the stairs. She reached out her hand and closed it around the rung of the bannister, leaning away from Ellie and against the wood.

"How long has this been going on?" Ellie demanded, her voice concerned and impatient.

"I...I don't know...I can't remember," Cat murmured, "Don't worry, I'm just...I'm just tired."

"No, you're more than that. You're sick. Have you told Heath about this?"

Cat gave a soft, broken chuckle, "No." What did she think Heath would do about it?

"We have to get you to a doctor,"

"No...no doctor...no hospital..." Cat didn't want to go to the hospital. She'd spent hours in hospitals. First for her mother, her father, Ellie, then Henry- she'd had enough of them after all of that.

"Yes!" Ellie insisted, "C'mon, I'm going to get Henry ready, we'll all have to go.".

"No...no..." Cat moaned. She couldn't let Heath return to find all of them gone. He would be angry that she hadn't waited for him. He wouldn't understand.

But suddenly she heard the sound of an engine rolling up the driveway outside. The headlights flashed through the hall window. Heath was home.

Ellie reached out and pulled Cat close. Cat didn't know if the gesture was meant to comfort her, or keep her from budging from the seat on the step before Heath came inside. But she was too tired to care then. All she wanted to do was sleep.

A few moments passed. She heard the sound of steps coming up the porch steps. The door unlocked, then opened and Heath came inside, followed by Harry. He stopped short as he saw them on the steps, his brow raising in obvious surprise.

"What is this?" he asked cautiously, "What's going on?"

Cat opened her mouth to speak, but her weariness made her too slow and Ellie beat her to it, "Cat's sick." she announced, "I think she needs to go to a hospital."

"No..." Cat murmured faintly. She eased herself out of Ellie's arms and managed to stand up by herself, but still held onto the banister, "Really, I'm fine."

"No, she isn't fine." Ellie insisted, "She needs to see a doctor right now."

Heath paused at that, "For what?" he asked.

"For what?" Ellie repeated incredulously, "Just _look _at her. She has a fever, Heath. She's shaking, she can barely hold her head up right now and she's lost too much weight. Haven't you been able to see something was wrong? Or have you been so obsessed with ruling everything and everyone that you don't even care anymore?"

His eyes met with Cat's, and she saw that his face seemed to change for an instant. She thought she saw something like the smallest bit of worry in his eyes. It was gone in the next second however, and he was looking at Ellie again with the cool derision he always seemed to reserve for her. "What are you even doing in here?" he demanded, "Shouldn't you be worrying about your other little patient? Why don't you get back to the Heights and worry about him, and leave her to me?"

"I_ am _here for Henry!" Ellie snapped, "I'm here for both of them, and I won't let you destroy this family anymore than you already have!"

"Ellie, no," Cat pleaded, "Please, don't start-"

"And don't you start defending him, Cat, not when he doesn't deserve it! He's the one who gave Henry the alcohol!" Ellie cried out angrily, "He's been supporting your brother's habit just so he can kill him!"

Cat was instantly and jarringly shaken from her weariness, "_What_?" She exclaimed, "No, no, that can't be! Heath-"

"Don't listen to her, Cat." Heath said swiftly, "She's nothing but a goddamn liar, and Henry's nothing but a worthless drunk."

"_I'm_ a liar?" Ellie snatched up the bottle she'd brought with her, "If I'm a liar then where did Henry get this? Where did he get all of that alcohol that you know damn well is stocked in that drum barrel?"

"He's an addict, they'll do anything to support their habit." he replied evenly.

"I'm with him for every hour of every second of every day," Ellie retorted, "Henry hasn't left that room since the day you threw him out of this house. There's no way he could have gotten the money, or the alcohol without help- _your _help."

"You can't prove anything." he said. "Not one damn thing." There was almost a tight kind of smile on his lips that made Cat feel a new kind of ache in her stomach, beginning to wonder if the horrible accusation wasn't as crazy as she wanted it to be.

"We'll just see what the police have to say about that-"

"Stop!" Cat broke in then. She could feel the nausea and dizziness coming back over her, but she fought it desperately, "Please, just stop it, both of you! Ellie, you're talking crazy, Heath wouldn't do something like-"

"Oh for God's sake, open your eyes, Cat! Stop being so blind to what he is! You don't have a clue about what he wouldn't do. You don't have a clue about what he _has _done to-"

Before she could even finish, Heath crossed the distance between them in two swift strides, grabbing ahold of her forearm, "Get out." he said, all traces of the smile gone from his face and voice, "You get the hell out of here."

Ellie struggled to pull her arm free as she retorted, "Why? Because I know the truth? Because you're afraid that she's about to find out what you really are?"

"Heath, stop! You're going to hurt her!" Cat reached out and tried to tug his arm to get him to release his grip on Ellie's. Her grasp was far too weak though, and Heath didn't budge.

"Go upstairs, Cat." he said, speaking to her but keeping his gaze locked with Ellie's.

"Cat, don't you go anywhere!" Ellie snapped, "Not until you hear the truth."

Heath squeezed Ellie's arm tighter, pulling her closer to him as he muttered in a low voice, "I swear to God, Ellie...if you don't get the hell out right now-"

"You'll what?" she retorted, "Hit me? Go ahead, I don't care, she _is_ going to hear this!"

"Cat, get the hell upstairs!" Heath suddenly yelled at her, making her jump. Nevertheless, she stayed where she was, gripping the banister with both hands for support for her knees that suddenly felt weak and unstable.

"Heath, what is she talking about?" Cat asked shakily, feeling a gradual sensation of dread begin to creep up in her belly. She'd seen the new look that was on Heath's face. He may have yelled at her, but one look in his eyes told her that it wasn't out of anger- it was out of fear. The sight of that fear was enough to worry her to the point that she wasn't even sure she wanted to know the answer to her question.

But Heath cut in, his voice even harsher than before, "Did you hear what I said?, Don't listen to her, just get upstairs,_ now_!"

"He killed Francie!" Ellie suddenly screamed. Almost as soon as the words had left her mouth, Heath's fist cracked across her jaw and she went reeling to the bottom step, falling down upon it hard. Cat cried out her name in horror and immediately fell to her knees beside Ellie, the tears already falling down her cheeks. She helped to draw her up, wiping the blood away from her lip gingerly.

"Oh God...oh my God!" she whirled her head around to look at Heath, "What is the _matter_ with you?" she shrieked, "This is Ellie!"

"Tell her, Heath!" Ellie screamed, panting heavily. No tears shone in her eyes as she wiped the rest of the blood away from her already swollen lip, "You tell her the real reason that Francie died that night! Tell her the real reason that Harry lost his mother! Tell her that you just sat there and watched her bleed to death instead of calling the ambulance that could have saved her life!"

Heath had already backed away from them, towards the door as he rubbed at the knuckle that had crashed against Ellie's jaw. That panicked fear was still there in his eyes. There was something in his eyes that reminded Cat of a caged animal. Their eyes met and held. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. There was no mistaking that look, or his silence. The truth stared back at her from the other side of his emerald eyes.

"...No." she whispered, "No. Heath, no..." she shook her head wildly as her voice cracked, "_No_!" A sob burst forth from her lips, "It's not true...it's not true!"

"It is." Ellie said, "He knows it is. He killed Francie, Cat. And now he's trying to kill Henry."

Cat was still shaking her head as she cried softly. The room was beginning to spin again and she felt like she wanted to throw up. "Heath," she whimpered, as if speaking his name would be enough to end this nightmare and make Heath assure her that Ellie's horrifying accusations were false, "Heath, _please_..."

But it wasn't, and he didn't. When Heath did speak again, it was to Ellie, his voice was clear, hard and unyielding as his eyes, "If you ever show your face in this house, or on this property again, I'll kill you, do you understand, Ellie? You stay away from here, and you stay away from her." he nodded at Cat before turning toward the door again and walking outside without another word.

They sat there for a long time, the only sound in the room being Cat's soft crying. Her eyes swept across the room, and suddenly fell on a small figure in the corner. Harry was sitting with his knees pulled into his chest in a tight ball. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his hands were clamped onto either sides of his ears, as if doing so would somehow shut out all the sights and sounds of the world around him...

* * *

"Don't go." Cat pleaded, "Please. _Please_ don't go."

She, Ellie, and Harry stood on the porch of the house. It was only a short while after the episode with Heath on the stairs. Only a short while during which Ellie had packed a single bag of her belongings and called a cab. Heath had left and still not returned, and Ellie hadn't wanted to still be there when he did. All the while, Cat had begged her to change her mind.

"You can't just leave Henry here, he needs you. What's going to happen if you go?"

"He'll probably keep drinking." Ellie replied briskly, "He'll keep getting sicker and sicker until he finally dies...it's exactly what Heath wants to happen."

Cat shut her eyes, "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's the truth. If you could just accept that, we'd both be on our way back to New York now."

"Ellie...Heath lost his temper. I know he hurt you, but I promise that he didn't mean it. He didn't." she knew how empty and hollow the words sounded. Cat even know how untrue they were- but sheer desperation forced her to say them anyway. "He's just..he's angry and upset. You know he wouldn't really want to hurt you. You know that he's sorry."

"Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't. But it doesn't matter- not anymore."

Cat shook her head, "Don't leave me here, Ellie." she whispered in a final entreaty "Don't leave me here alone."

Despite the ugly, purplish welt on her jaw, Ellie's face was serene and resolved. She took Cat's hands in her own, looking her square in the eye, "Come with me, Cat. There's nothing left for you here. You're sick, and staying here isn't going to make you better. The only thing Heath is going to be concerned about is keeping you locked up here to make sure that you don't leave him. Come back with me to New York. We'll call Edgar at the airport, he'll wire us the money for two plane tickets. Once we get home we can think of something to get Henry and Harry out of here and-"

Cat pulled her hands away, "I can't do that." she muttered, "I can't _do_ that..."

"Whatever it is that you think you're staying here for doesn't exist anymore, Cat. It's gone, and it's not coming back, no matter how long you stay here, and no matter how hard you try with him. Heath's gone, Cat. He left you the day that he drove away from the Heights on that motorcycle- he left, and he never really came back. Deep down, you know that."

Cat couldn't accept that. Accepting it would have meant admitting that she had been deluding herself for months in believing that she and Heath had a second chance with each other. Accepting it would have forced her to face the fact that her immaturity and selfishness had succeeded in permanently and irreparably damaging their love. She would have to accept that her cruelty to Heath had made him into a monster that was obsessed with wreaking revenge on anyone he thought had wronged him, and ensuring that he controlled every person within his influence that had once controlled him- including her. She would have to live with that forever- that nearly everything that was wrong with her life, as well as her family's lives, was all her fault.

Cat wasn't strong enough for that. She didn't feel strong enough for anything anymore.

She threw her arms around Ellie, clinging to her as if she would never see her again. Perhaps she wouldn't...

"I'm sorry, Ellie," she whispered to the older woman that had served as her second mother, "I'm so sorry."

When Ellie drew back, Cat saw a thin sheen reflected in her eyes, "You really think I want your apologies for this?" she asked, although her voice was shaking, she almost sounded angry, "I just want you to be safe! I want you to be happy!"

Cat stared at her for a long moment, shaking her head as she replied almost as soon as the words came to her mind, "I don't think I ever really knew how to be."

Ellie turned to Harry, who was leaned against the one of the beams of the porch, watching them silently. She knelt down so that their faces were level with each other, reaching out and touching his face gently, "Someday I hope you'll be able to forgive all of us," she murmured, "You don't deserve any of this."

Harry didn't answer, staring back at her in stoic, sullen silence. Ellie's eyes became even glassier and she reached out, pulling him to her in a tight embrace. His arms stayed at his sides as she hugged him and kissed his forehead. When she finally let him go, there were tears streaming down her face. As she shakily rose to her feet, she turned again to Cat, "If you change your mind," she said, her voice firm and serious, "You make sure you bring him with you. Do you hear me? Make sure you bring him-"

"Don't." Cat cut her off, her voice choked and hoarse, "Don't."

The cab driver parked in the driveway honked the horn once to get their attention. Ellie waved at him in acknowledgement, then wiped at her eyes for a final time. "I'll um..." she murmured, "When I get back to New York, I'll-"

"You shouldn't call." Cat interrupted. "You know you shouldn't."

Ellie nodded, "You're right." she said simply, picking up her suitcase. "Goodbye, Cat."

Cat only nodded, finding herself unable to say anymore parting words in return. She watched Ellie walk down the porch steps, and get into the cab, then watched as it drove away. She turned to look for Harry but saw that he had already disappeared. Cat considered going to look for him, but decided against it. She'd learned a long time ago that if Harry didn't want to be found, then it was pointless to search for him. Even for as young as he was, he just seemed to enjoy his solitude. She started to go back into the house, but paused on the step. She didn't want to go back into that house- not to the bedroom with the large, cold, empty bed on which she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep but only lay awake in the darkness with nothing but her thoughts to torture her. She didn't want to be alone.

Cat heard Heath's voice in her head as she remembered the day that Henry had come home from the hospital- she heard the dangerously soft tone of his voice as he warned her to stay away from her brother. But yet, she still found herself walking in the direction of the auto garage. Maybe she would change her mind upon spending a few moments with Henry then go back to the house. Maybe she would only stay for a little while. And maybe...maybe the thought of Heath's anger just didn't seem to frighten her anymore.

As she climbed the stairs to the bedroom above the garage, Cat shivered in the drafty air that seemed even colder than the one outside. Once she reached the top step, she gently pushed open the door to the room. Squinting her eyes through the dimness, she could make out the shape of the bed in the corner of the largely bare and empty room. She walked over to it slowly, hugging her arms around herself.

The figure on the bed shifted, sensing her approach and turned to look in her direction. Cat's lips slightly parted in shock at the sight of her brother. He looked even worse than he had when he'd first come back from the hospital. As she stared at him in horror, she found herself wondering how she could have ever allowed this to happen to him. Even for all his faults, Henry had still been (was even still) her brother.

As she lowered herself down to sit on the edge of the bed, they stared at one another for a long moment.

"You shouldn't be here." Henry said at last, his voice hoarse but serious. "If he found you here-"

"Ellie's gone." she said, cutting him off. Henry frowned, sitting up in the bed,

"What?"

Cat nodded, "She just left to go back to New York... She isn't coming back."

He searched her face for an answer, but finally seemed to understand. "What did He do to her?"

At the question, Cat felt her eyes become hot and gritty again, "He..." she murmured, almost unable to even say the words, "He _hit _her-" her voice caught then and she pressed her hand over her mouth hard in an effort to try and stifle the tears. When she had finally succeeded and looked back at Henry she saw the grim but unsurprised look on his face. "He made her leave." Cat paused then, stopping short of giving the real reason. She didn't know for sure if Henry knew the truth about Heath and Francie, but if she were to guess she would think that he didn't. And she didn't see the point in letting him know about it then, either.

Henry' gave a grimace that almost looked like a smile, "Then she's better off." he finally said, "She's well rid of all of us. If she has any sense, she'll stay as far away from here as possible."

Cat looked at him, speaking her thoughts aloud, "What about you?"

His expression sobered, "It doesn't matter." he murmured. "It hasn't for a long time now. Ellie just didn't know how to accept that.."

"Did Heath really give you that alcohol?" she asked in a small voice. Henry didn't answer at first so she pushed harder, "Tell me the truth."

"If I said yes...would it make you leave him?" When she was silent he gave a tight grin, "Then what difference does it make?"

"I didn't want him to hurt you, Henry. I didn't."

"Maybe you should've." he replied wryly, "Look around, Cat. I've fucked things up pretty bad. If there's anybody you want to blame for this, it should be me. This," he waved his head, "All of this...it's my fault." his voice dropped so low it was almost a whisper, "It's my fault."

Cat looked at him for a long moment, shaking her head, "No," she murmured, her voice trembling, "It's both our fault."

Henry reached out and touched her cheek gently. At the feel of his fingertip, Cat felt her eyes becoming hot and gritty again. She ducked her head, biting her lip hard, but it didn't matter. The tears sprouted and within a few moments, her shoulders were softly heaving. Henry wrapped his arms around her and drew her to his torso in an embrace. Before she knew it, the two of them were stretched out on the thin, narrow cot, Henry still holding her as she wept softly. They were the last arms that she had ever expected to find comfort or sympathy in, but Cat found herself remaining there in them, clinging to what she felt was the last place she could find either. To her, there was almost a bittersweet irony to it. Between the two of them, she and Henry had allowed their selfishness and cruelty to rob them of everything they had ever loved or cared for. Their actions had changed their home, and themselves forever. And now, they were left with nothing- nothing but the regrets that they could share with one another...


End file.
